


A New Direction

by Booklady



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:52:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 61,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9236039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Booklady/pseuds/Booklady
Summary: And here we go - the sequel to Perspective, now refurbished and ready to greet the world. All these characters and their world belong to J.K. Rowling.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And here we go - the sequel to Perspective, now refurbished and ready to greet the world. All these characters and their world belong to J.K. Rowling.

_Harry_

It was strange but pleasant to be wakened with a kiss. Even after a week, Harry was still startled each morning when Draco's lips, rather overwhelmingly minty from the breath freshening potion he used, descended on his and a wicked wintergreen tongue teased him out of sleep. Considering the trouble Draco was having settling in, that was usually the best part of the day.

"Wake up, Harry," Draco murmured. "Weasley's glaring at me."

"A glare won't kill you," said Harry, but he opened his eyes and sat up, fumbling for his glasses. 

Ron was indeed glaring, but when his gaze met Harry's he rolled his eyes. "I wish he wouldn't do that in front of me," he explained.

"I wouldn't if we weren't all inexplicably sharing a room," said Draco, rummaging in the wardrobe. "Tell me again why that is? This house is huge."

Harry shrugged. "It's also filthy and falling apart. It's taken awhile to get it even as liveable as it is. Dobby's working miracles, but even he's only one house-elf."

"Dobby? He's a house-elf?" Draco turned to face him, holding one of Harry's less dreadful T-shirts. "Why do I know that name?"

"He used to belong to your Dad," said Ron. "'Til Harry freed him at the end of second year."

"Why were you going around freeing our house-elves?" Draco asked Harry in surprise.

Harry laughed. "Not all of them. Just that one. He tried to help me, and your Dad was –" _not OK with that…_

A small, damp silence fell.

"Right," said Draco, who obviously knew better than anyone how Lucius Malfoy treated house-elves – or anyone – who didn't do just as he wanted them to. He regarded the T-shirt in his hand with a disgusted frown. "I thought you said someone from the Order went and got your clothes from that Muggle place you were staying."

"Tonks did," said Harry. He got out of bed and went over to the wardrobe. "They're all there," he said, pulling out a T-shirt for himself and a pair of jeans. Not to mention his belt.

"Oh, no, Harry," said Draco, looking up from the shirt he was holding (pinched between his fingertips, Harry noticed) to the clothes in the wardrobe. "You can't be serious." Harry swallowed a growl and then a laugh. He had that reaction to a lot of what Draco did and said.

"Not poncey enough for you?" Ron taunted, getting out his own clothes from the other wardrobe.

"Shut up, Weasley. I dare say even you wouldn't be caught dead in these clothes. And for Merlin's sake, they would probably fit you." Since Ron was twice Harry's size, this was no idle condemnation.

"Sorry my wardrobe doesn't meet your standards, Draco," said Harry dryly, cinching his belt. Ron was now looking at him as though he had never seen him do this before. He felt his face going red.

"It's still more than you have, Malfoy," said Ron, clearly attempting to support Harry. Harry resisted the urge to smack himself in the forehead as Draco's face darkened. Those two had lasted what, ten minutes before they started in? It was almost a record.

"That might be true of you, Weasel, but certainly not me," Draco purred. "I have several wardrobes full of great clothes."

"At Malfoy Manor, you prat, where you can't get them," said Ron smugly. He tied his trainer and stood to his full height, towering over both the other boys. "I'm for breakfast. You coming, Harry?"

"In a minute," said Harry, pretending to adjust his belt. 

Draco was looking at the T-shirt he still held with a stricken expression. "He's right," he muttered darkly, when Ron had left. He pulled the T-shirt over his head in a resigned sort of way and fished a pair of Harry's jeans from the wardrobe. Harry was secretly turned on by the way Draco wore his trousers without underwear, but he schooled that out of his face. "And there's something I never thought I'd say. Argh. Look at me."

"You've been fine like that all week," said Harry defensively.

"That was when I thought it was temporary." He caught sight of Harry's expression, which must have been more peeved than Harry thought, because he added hastily, "I do appreciate you letting me wear your clothes, Harry. And stay in your house and eat your food and…"

"Ride around in my head?" Harry suggested.

Draco grinned suddenly. "That too. But these clothes – Aha!"

"Aha?" Harry knew Draco well enough to be alarmed at his sudden illuminated expression. It made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, an effect even Voldemort had never had. Voldemort was horrible, but there was never any uncertainty about his intentions or actions. 

"I have an idea," said Draco. Harry gulped. Draco's ideas were usually rife with unexpected side effects. "Let's go get some breakfast. You need to eat more, anyway." He put a hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him out the door and down to the kitchen. Uncomfortable with his growing conviction that Draco had made him into some kind of project, but definitely ready for breakfast, Harry went.

As was usual since Draco's arrival, Severus Snape was at the breakfast table along with various Weasleys. He nodded unsmilingly after giving Draco a comprehensive once-over, and returned to the journal in front of him. 

Draco sat down next to him as Harry circled the table to sit between Ron and Ginny. "Professor Snape?" he asked, with his most winning smile.

Snape gave him a cautious look. As well he might, Harry thought; they all knew what Draco could be like when he decided he wanted something. Snape had had an even closer view over the years than anyone else at the table. "What is it, Draco?"

"Well, I was just thinking, I can't keep wearing Harry's clothes indefinitely," said Draco, all but batting his eyelashes. Snape's brow gave its customary tiny twitch at Draco's use of Harry's first name. _Of all the things to bother the brilliant spy…_ "I was hoping I could go and get some of my own things."

Snape put down his journal and looked at him. "Mr Malfoy, are you ready to hear what has been going on at the Manor?" he asked seriously.

"Going on? What's been going on?" Draco asked, his expression fading into alarmed confusion.

"Your father was of course taken back into custody," said Snape. "There are Aurors stationed in the Manor with your mother. The Minister tried to order a comprehensive search and seizure operation throughout the house."

Draco's face went pale with rage. "What?"

"Professor Dumbledore managed to sway the Wizengamot into vetoing the idea," said Snape. "Barely. Your going to take anything out of the Manor is, at the moment, out of the question. The Minister doesn't know where you are, only that you are in a safe house vouched for by Professor Dumbledore. He would very much like to get hold of you; I doubt you would enjoy the experience."

Draco scoffed. "What could he do to me? I'm not guilty of anything."

"You're a Malfoy," said Ron, in a dead serious tone.

When Draco rounded on him, mouth opening to shout, Snape said, "He's right. Your name is all he'll need, at the moment."

With obvious difficulty, Draco shut his mouth. He sat there glowering in silence for a moment, then said, with a lightness that went nowhere near his expression, "I don't get any sympathy points for being handed over to the Dark Lord unconscious?"

Harry wished he wouldn't call Voldemort that. It was too – respectful, or something.

"No," said Professor Snape.

"He does have a point about the clothes, though," said Ginny. Draco gave her a startled look. "Could we go to Diagon Alley –"

"He can't," said Professor Snape. At Draco's disappointed look, he said, "I or another adult will get you some clothes, Mr Malfoy."

Even Harry boggled at the idea of Snape picking out clothes for Draco, who until now had always dressed with excellent taste. Draco seemed to be gritting his teeth when he did it, but he gave Snape a smile and said, "Thank you, sir."

Snape nodded and returned to his journal. Ginny shrugged and applied herself to her breakfast. Ron gave Draco a nasty grin and did the same.

 

_Draco_

After breakfast, Draco retreated to one of the sitting rooms. He didn't feel like trying to keep his temper with anyone just now. He was too angry already, thinking of all those Aurors making free with _his_ home and _his_ things and _his_ mother…she must be miserable. Draco was gone and so was Lucius; Draco didn't actually have a clear idea of which of them had a greater share of her sympathies, but in this case, it didn't much matter, did it?

Also, he was homesick. It was a big step from his own lovely rooms in the palatial and immaculate Malfoy Manor to sharing a room with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley in this wreck of a house. He might have more in common with Harry, including lust, than he had ever thought, but they still found plenty to disagree over. And Ron Weasley was just annoying.

Draco had had to have a long and uncomfortable discussion with Professors Snape and Dumbledore about how he had gotten to be in Harry's head and his part of what had happened while he was there. Since then, everyone watched him all the time. He could barely visit the loo without one of the house's resident adults lurking about. He had been drafted to help Professor Snape recreate the potion – handily occupying any time he might use for committing nefarious deeds - so that Professor Snape could try to figure out some sort of counter for it. Draco had not exactly memorised the formula, so they'd had several interesting failures.

And dammit, Harry's clothes were little better than rags! Draco flung himself into a chair, sulking. He didn't understand how Harry could stand to be seen in them; they were even slightly too big for Draco, who was significantly taller and heavier than Harry. And they were so tatty. Draco had been wearing the best of the lot, and frankly it had gotten on his last nerve. He wanted his own clothes. 

New clothes would be even more fun. He'd have a chance to buy new clothes for Harry, too, while he was at it, and dress him properly. But Professor Snape hadn't even hesitated with that uncompromising "No." Draco knew that tone. There would be no changing the man's mind.

He scowled at the door as it opened and the Weaselette – no, he had to remember to call her Weasley – came in.

"Malfoy," she said.

"Weasley," said Draco.

"Sorry I couldn't finagle a shopping trip," she said, wandering over. "Those clothes really are the outside of enough. It would have been a great chance to get some new things on Harry."

Surprised, he studied her more closely. "I thought you weren't crushing on Harry," he said.

She raised a brow. "That's right, you were eavesdropping, weren't you," she said. Draco was glad she seemed more amused than angry about it; his jaw still ached occasionally from her brother's reaction to the news that Draco had been observing them all from inside Harry's head. "I'm not. But he's like my brother, and anyway, don't you just itch to fix him up?" She gave Draco a knowing look.

"Maybe," he said, cautiously.

She settled into the chair opposite his. "I dropped the idea of Glamour Charms before I left," she said. "We may yet have a chance."

Sneaky. He approved. "With what money?" he couldn't resist asking, somewhat snidely.

She sniffed at him. "You needn't worry about that," she said. "But if they don't let us go, do you have any other ideas?"

"Transfiguration," he said promptly. "I'd have done it already, except my wand is back at the Manor. That's something else I was going to collect from there."

She frowned at that. "I didn't know that. What are you going to do at school?"

He shrugged angrily. "No idea. They haven't talked to me about that. It's just been poking about in my head and working on the potion for the whole week."

"Well, you're hardly in a position to complain about that, are you? Anyway, you couldn't do any transfiguration here; you'd get a nasty note from the Ministry about underage magic."

The house wasn't shielded so the underage people could practise spells over the summer? Didn't that just figure. "Hmph. So, who are you crushing on?" he asked abruptly. He hated to admit it, but he'd been dying of curiosity to know whom in Slytherin could've diverted her affections from their long time focus on Harry. He could think of no obvious candidates. He'd been trying to startle it out of her at random moments all week, with no success.

Not this time, either. She just grinned at him. Impressed despite himself, he grinned back, and they settled into a fairly companionable silence. 

Draco returned to stewing about Aurors overrunning his home. He didn't have a chance to really get into it, though, as Professor Snape arrived to summon him to the potions lab he had set up. Draco groaned and followed him in to check on the results of their latest combination, which was also not right. It had melted the phial.

"Clearly there were too many kneazle tears in the mix," said Professor Snape, casting Evanesco on the pile of sludge that was starting to eat into the work top.

"Clearly," said Draco. Then he leaped straight in. "Professor Snape, what about my wand?"

"What about your wand?" Professor Snape asked, looking surprised. Draco knew he was one of the few people Professor Snape would allow to see his feelings in his expression.

"It's at the Manor," he said. "I haven't had it all week. I'm going to need it before too long, don't you think, sir?"

Professor Snape put down the jar he had been carrying to the table and regarded Draco thoughtfully. "You're right. I didn't realise you didn't have it, although of course you wouldn't. I shall have to see what can be done."

"Thank you, sir," said Draco, wondering when he could expect to see some results from this. Probably pretty soon, seeing as it was his wand they were discussing, but he would be willing to bet he still wouldn't get his clothes, and this just added to his general frustration with the world.

For now, with an effort, he put it from his mind and reached for the powdered Ashwinder eggshell for yet another attempt to recreate the potion formula correctly.


	2. Chapter 2

_Harry_

At lunchtime Hermione decreed that she, Harry, Ron, and Ginny could stop working on their summer homework. They packed up their things with glad hearts; Harry especially, as he had been working on a Potions essay, which he found even more stressful when he knew Snape was actually around to swoop down on him at any moment.

"Thanks for lending me your notes on murtlap, Hermione," he said, absently rubbing the words scarred into his right hand. "I think I'll be able to get the essay the right length now."

"You're welcome," said Hermione. "How are you doing with the Transfiguration?"

Harry groaned. Ron heard and dropped back to ruffle Hermione's hair. 

"Homework's over for today," he said. "We need to think of something fun to do this afternoon." He sighed. "I'd kill to go flying."

"I strangely find myself agreeing with you," said Draco, appearing from Snape's lab as they entered the kitchen. "I may have to kill myself now."

"Shut up, Ferret," said Ron mildly.

Draco curled his lip, but did not reply. They gathered around the table and began constructing sandwiches from the makings Mrs Weasley had laid out.

"So Malfoy, what did Snape say about your wand?" Ginny asked, sitting down with her sandwich.

Draco frowned at her as Harry looked up. "He said they'd see what they could do," he said briefly.

Harry said, "They left your wand?"

"It was a hurried exit," said Draco tolerantly, to Harry's surprise. "I'm sure I'll have it back in no time, now that I've brought it to Professor Snape's attention."

"Then you'll be able to do your homework with us," said Hermione.

Draco looked at her strangely. "I'm done with my homework. I got it done the first week I was home." He looked around the table. "You didn't?"

"I couldn't," said Harry, stung. "The Dursleys – "

"Shut up, Ferret," said Ron again. "Some of us had things to do."

"You think I didn't?" Draco snapped. "At least I didn't have unfinished homework hanging over my head while I did them." _Things like invent that potion,_ Harry thought, but didn't say. 

"One thing's good…" Draco continued, oblivious. "I won't have to deal with that tutor all holiday."

"Tutor?" Harry asked.

"Father hired me a tutor for the holiday – to bring me up to speed with the Dark Arts, mainly," said Draco.

_Of course._

"Figures," said Ron, snorting.

"Do not talk about my father, Weasel," said Draco in a cold, level voice.

"Whatever, Ferret," said Ron, through a mouthful of sandwich.

Draco looked disgusted. "You're lucky I don't have my wand," he snapped. "One more Ferret out of you and you won't like what happens, wand or no. And for Merlin's sake, swallow before you try to talk!"

Ron started to open his – still full – mouth to retort, but Harry laid a hand on his arm and said, "Please. We don't need more arguing." He looked over at Draco. "You know you agreed to leave off the Weasel thing."

Draco looked sulky. "As long as he leaves off the Ferret. He started it."

Harry sighed. "That doesn't mean you have to go there too," he said wearily. "Come on, you guys."

"He's got a point about the swallowing, though," Ginny said to Ron. "Mum taught you better manners than that."

"Anyway, Malfoy, your homework is at the Manor, isn't it?" Hermione put in rather hastily. 

Draco looked stricken by this, but chose not to comment, instead applying himself to his sandwich. Ron seethed in silence as he finished his own. Then he rose to his full height and said, "Harry, could I have a word?"

"Sure," said Harry, finishing his own sandwich. He put his plate in the sink and followed Ron into the first floor sitting room. "What's up?"

"What's up with you and Malfoy?" Ron returned, but not with a snarl or a sneer.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, relieved by Ron's tone but still shifting his feet with discomfort.

"I mean, you let him come here, you take his side when we argue – he kisses you every morning! What's going on?"

"I do not take his side!" Harry argued. "I just don't want everybody at each other's throats."

"So I should just put up with his nasty remarks the whole time?" Ron asked. Now came the scowl.

"Of course not," said Harry. He looked Ron in the eye. "I'll make him stop. I'm not taking his side; you're my best friend. You don't have to put up with crap like that. But you don't have to dish it out, either. We have bigger problems right now than Malfoy being a prat."

"Yeah, okay." Ron was silent for a minute. "What about the kissing, Harry?"

Harry felt his face go red, and his eyes dropped. "Yeah, um – "

"'Cause you really don't seem to be surprised that he does it," Ron observed. "Or have a problem with it either." He frowned down at Harry, and Harry's heart sank at the pattern-seeing look on Ron's face. "Did something happen when he was in your head?"

"Sort of," said Harry uncomfortably. He really didn't want to get into this with Ron, when he was having so much trouble dealing with it by himself in his own head.

Ron's expression darkened. "He did that Imperius thing on you, didn't he!" He started for the door, but Harry grabbed his arm.

"Ron, no! I can throw off Imperius, remember? And you know Dumbledore and Snape checked us all out once Draco was back in his own head. It's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?"

Harry shrugged. "Honestly? I have no idea. Things are just – different now. But I won't let him be a git to you or any of your family, I swear."

Ron studied him for a minute, then sighed. "You've always been focussed on him," he said. "This is just more of the same, isn't it? What about Ginny?"

"What about Ginny? She's with – Dean," said Harry, caught off balance.

"Yeah, but –" Ron shook his head. "Never mind. As long as you're okay, okay. I can't say I agree with your taste, but I don't have to, do I?"

Harry grinned, relieved. "No. Thanks, Ron."

Ron cuffed him affectionately on the shoulder, and they went off to find the others and figure out something to do with the afternoon.

They had settled down in the library with Exploding Snap – even Malfoy, who seemed to be teaching Ginny shady card tricks, much to Ron's annoyance – when Tonks stuck her head in the door and said, "Harry, can I have a word?"

Just then Harry's cards exploded, so he was happy to put them down and meet her in the hallway. "What's up?" he asked her.

"Couple of things," she said. "Come on in the kitchen."

He followed her into the kitchen, where Professor Dumbledore, Snape, and Remus were all waiting. After a minute, Kingsley Shacklebolt came in and shut the door.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked. Everyone had the solemn look of bad news.

"It's about your relatives, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore, as everyone took seats at the table. "I'm afraid your uncle did not survive his head injury."

Harry waited to feel something other than numb, but it didn't seem to be happening. "I – I killed my uncle?" he whispered.

"In self-defence," said Kingsley. "But we'll need to Pensieve the memories of that night in case the Ministry tries to get stroppy about it."

"Okay," said Harry. "What about Dudley and Aunt Petunia?"

"They are recovering," said Professor Dumbledore. "They've returned home already, as a matter of fact. We took care of repairing all the spell damage to the house, but I'm afraid your aunt has refused to allow you to return."

That stung, but mostly he was still numb. "Not surprising, I guess," he said, after an uncomfortable hesitation under everyone's scrutiny. They seemed to be waiting for some kind of visible reaction, but Harry didn't have it in him at the moment. "What does that mean?"

"What do you think it means, Potter?" sneered Snape. "Your blood protection has gone. You will stay here, and we'll have to increase your training so that you have some hope of defending yourself."

"Hey!" Harry snapped. "I've managed to do okay so far."

"Yes, because you had wards and luck helping you. It is suicidal stupidity to rely on luck to that extent, and the wards are gone," said Snape coldly. "Your training starts tomorrow." He turned to Professor Dumbledore. "About Mr Malfoy…"

"Yes, yes," said Professor Dumbledore. "I'll retrieve his wand and some clothes from Malfoy Manor tomorrow. Kingsley, Tonks, will you accompany me? I think that will help reassure the Minister that I'm not removing anything incriminating."

"Sure," said Tonks. She turned to Snape. "Draco asked me to keep an eye out for something like these," she said, passing him a sheaf of parchment. "Is that what you needed?"

Snape unrolled the parchment and looked it over, and his usual glum expression seemed to lighten. "Yes, this should be very helpful. Please have Mr Malfoy come down to the lab as soon as possible. If that's all?" Without waiting for an answer, he swept out of the room.

"Never get between a Potions Master and a new formula," said Tonks, and Harry couldn't help laughing.

"I guess I'll let Draco know," he said, also rising. "Is there anything else, sir?"

"No, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore. "We'll speak about your new training schedule tomorrow morning after breakfast."

Harry nodded and fled, his mind - and stomach – churning as the numbness of surprise began to wear off. 

Draco, when notified of Snape's demand, scowled and said, "You would have to get me more work today." But his tone was almost amiable, and he headed off to the lab.

Harry went up to his room and lay down, needing some time to process the fact that he was now, however inadvertently, a murderer.

_Draco_

Draco found Professor Snape in his lab, poring over a sheaf of parchment. "You sent for me, sir?" _Again?_

Professor Snape looked up. There was a hint of sparkle in his black eyes, and a sort of smile on his thin lips. Draco was frankly creeped out. "Yes, Mr Malfoy," the Professor said. "Ms. Tonks gave me these; she said you'd told her to keep an eye out for them." He proffered the parchment.

Draco took a look, and grinned. Tonks had found his notes on the potion! No more disasters! "Yes, sir," he said. "These are my notes on the potion. It looks like they're all here."

"Indeed." Professor Snape took the parchment back. "I see now where we were going wrong. You've made some unconventional choices here – with the kneazle tear – and here – with the solution of knotweed."

"I thought the tear would help with the horrible headache when it wears off," said Draco. "Never did find out if it was that effective, either, since I took this with the hangover potion and it never did wear off. The knotweed was supposed to damp down the flavour, but it didn't."

"Mm. And which hangover potion did you take, and how much?" asked Professor Snape. Draco appreciated his clinical tone, and the absence of questions or remarks about the underage Draco requiring a hangover potion.

"Dionysus' Kiss. One dram," he said, getting out fresh parchment and preparing to make more notes. Accurate records of everything that might affect a potion or its reaction were vital. Professor Snape set up two cauldrons and started the Legilimency potion in both.

"Do you remember what you ate that day?" Professor Snape continued, powdering runespoor eggs.

Draco thought about that, and wrote down what he could remember. He'd not been diligent enough with his original notes, obviously. He should have included that information from the beginning. 

Although it wasn't as though he hadn't had other things on his mind, then or since.

Once the potions were simmering, and Professor Snape had gotten as much detail out of Draco as possible about what else had gone into his system at the same time as the potion, Draco was dismissed. He headed upstairs with the smug feeling of a day's work well done, encountering Tonks on the stairs.

"Thank you," he said, "for finding my notes. It was a big help."

"No problem," she said, smiling. "Cousins have to stick together, right?"

"What?"

She laughed. "Have a look at the Black tapestry sometime. Our mothers are sisters."

"What?" Could he sound any more gormless? Most likely he looked it, too. Embarrassing.

She patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. You're welcome. See you later." She descended the rest of the stairs and headed for the front door, tripping on the carpet as she went. She righted herself before he could reach her, though, so he headed up to the room he was sharing with Harry and Weasel – ly.

Harry was sprawled on his bed, staring pensively at the ceiling.

"What's with you?" Draco greeted him, going to his bedside table for the book he'd left there. He was bored with Exploding Snap, even with shady manoeuvres included.

"My uncle's dead," said Harry.

"Good riddance," said Draco automatically, then took a breath. That had probably not been the right thing to say, he realised.

Harry sat up and glared at him. "Shut up, Draco. He's dead! I killed him!"

Draco sat on his bed. "What do you mean, you killed him?"

"He hit his head that – that night in my room," said Harry. "He never woke up. I killed him."

"He was smothering you!" Draco protested, outraged. "He was going to beat you! It was self-defence!"

"That's what Shacklebolt said," said Harry, now contemplating his knees. "It doesn't change the fact that I'm a murderer." Much sooner than he'd probably expected. Also, killing Voldemort didn't seem like killing a real person to Draco; evil magic having warped him into something so inhuman. 

"Oh, shut up, you prat," he said, disgusted. "Quit wallowing. You aren't a murderer. You were defending yourself – in fact, I was defending you. I cast the spell, so if anyone killed him, I did."

Harry's head came up so fast his neck cricked. Draco winced. "What? You cast a spell that powerful from inside my head?"

"I was a bit worked up," said Draco, frowning. "I thought he was going to kill you, and you didn't seem to be stepping up and doing anything yourself."

"Yeah, but he went right through a load-bearing wall," said Harry, wide eyed. "And I was trying to get away!"

"Not very effectively," said Draco critically, and Harry scowled. "Why didn't you use magic?"

"I – " Harry looked struck by epiphany. "I can't use magic there," he said slowly. "They hate magic, it would just make everything – worse."

"Maybe that's why you keep suppressing yourself, then," said Draco, satisfied to have figured this out. "You tried to smash down the power I pulled for the spell, so I cast it as fast and hard as I could."

"I tried to smash the power? Wait, you used my power?" Harry looked more and more horrified the longer Draco talked.

"You always smash down the power," Draco informed him in soothing tones, although he knew this would fail to forestall questions and worry on Harry's part. "And yes. Out of body I can only cast little hexes with my own power. I had to do something drastic; you were smothering."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure whether to feel better or scared," he admitted, running his hand through his hair. "It's a bit creepy to know you were borrowing my power while you were in my head."

"But not that I was in your head in the first place? Never mind. Feel better," Draco advised, picking up his book. "You're not a murderer and you never have to deal with that nasty Muggle again. And I'm not in your head any more. Come on downstairs, it's time for tea."

Harry got up and trailed after him down the stairs. "This smashing down power probably isn't good. It can't be something I've always done, or always do. Then I wouldn't be able to do magic at all, right?"

"Wrong," said Draco, as they entered the kitchen. "You have the kind of power that cracks mountains, Harry. Smashing it down only puts it at everybody else's normal level."

There was shocked silence from everyone in the unexpectedly well-populated room.

"Boy, do you know how to make an entrance," said Ginny, after a minute.

Draco smirked at her. "It's a skill." He spotted the heaping plate of cheddar scones, and greed replaced his exasperation. He sat down and started to reach for the plate, pausing when Professor Snape spoke.

"I think I speak for us all when I say, elaborate, please, Mr Malfoy," said the Professor drily.

Harry looked mutinous, and Draco wavered. He knew Harry didn't like having his business discussed by all and sundry, and it happened that there were quite a few extra people at Headquarters for tea that day. "Perhaps later would be more appropriate, sir," he said at last.

"Quite right," said Professor Dumbledore. "Have a scone, Mr Malfoy." And he passed Draco the cheddar scones.


	3. Chapter 3

_Harry_

 

After tea, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Remus, Harry, and Draco went into the first-floor parlour. Harry knew his friends would be deploying the Extendible Ears, but he didn't really mind.

 

"Now, Mr Malfoy, that was an extraordinary statement you made earlier," said Professor Dumbledore, seating himself on the sofa and regarding Draco, who chose to stand by the fireplace, next to Harry. He looked sophisticated and relaxed, even in Harry's clothes, leaning his shoulders on the mantel. Harry wasn't leaning, because the edge of the mantel would dig into the back of his neck.

 

Draco shrugged. "It was true," he said. "They were better than any scones I ever had at the Manor."

 

Harry snorted with laughter, and Draco grinned at him. Remus smiled, and Professor Snape rolled his eyes.

 

"Mrs Weasley is indeed a superior cook," said Professor Dumbledore, without missing a beat. He didn't smile, though. "I was referring to your remark about Harry's power, however."

 

Draco shrugged again. "That was true too," he said.

 

"Now is the time to elaborate," said Professor Snape impatiently. "How do you know this?"

 

Draco looked over at Harry, who gave a shrug of his own, though he appreciated the implicit request for permission to tell the professors. Annoying as it was, there was no way to stop the adults in his life from picking over every little thing about him, and he was frankly worried over the whole "smashing down the power" thing. If Draco was right about that, he needed to stop it right quick. He needed all the power he could muster for the fight against Voldemort.

 

"I felt it when I was in his head," Draco said, turning back to Professor Snape. "When he first hit his head, his power rose and healed him. And then when that Muggle was attacking him, I cast Expelliarmus and his power boosted the spell. Both times it was a huge surge that was almost immediately pushed down by something else."

 

"Pushed down by what?" Professor Dumbledore asked, looking over at Harry.

 

"I think it was Harry," said Draco. "He knows he's not supposed to do magic outside of school." He favoured Harry with a sneer, but Harry could tell it was a friendly one. It seemed Remus could too, by the curious look he cast over the two of them. "Rule-abiding Gryffindor."

 

Remus laughed, and Harry sneered right back at Draco.

 

"Harry, would you allow me to be in your mind while you cast a spell?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

 

"I guess so," said Harry, glad it wasn't Snape.

 

"Very well. I will make the connection, and then you go ahead and cast Lumos. Concentrate on making the light as bright as you can," said Professor Dumbledore. He rose and faced Harry, looking into his eyes.

 

Harry gulped and cautiously thinned his mental shield. His ever-present headache spiked for a second, and then he registered Professor Dumbledore's presence in his mind. He raised his wand, thought of a bright light, and cast Lumos in a slightly shaky voice.

 

His wand ignited. The light didn't seem any brighter than normal to Harry, and he certainly didn't feel any surge of power like the ones Draco described. Then again, he never had before, either – Draco was probably wrong. Or making it up just to be mean, although Harry hoped not.

 

"That was pathetic," said Draco. "Put some power into it, Harry."

 

Professor Dumbledore was still in his mind. It itched at his consciousness. "I did," Harry snapped. "I think you're wrong, Draco."

 

"Of course I'm not wrong," said Draco loftily. "You're just not doing it right. Sharper flick of the wrist, now."

 

"I've been casting this spell since first year," said Harry, annoyed, but he tried the sharper wrist movement. The light was marginally brighter this time.

 

"Only first year?" said Draco. "I could cast it when I was four. Late bloomer, Harry?"

 

Harry gritted his teeth. "When I was four I didn't know magic was real – in fact I was told daily that it wasn't," he said distractedly. Professor Dumbledore's presence in his mind was more and more uncomfortable the longer it went on, but Harry didn't think he had the right - or, frankly, the ability - to push him out.

 

Draco tilted his head to one side and studied him. Then he said, "I think you're in the wrong frame of mind. You need a real challenge. Perhaps a duel with Professor Snape?"

 

"Are you out of your mind?" Harry yelped. Dumbledore still didn't leave his mind. Harry couldn't believe how intrusive it was; he'd had Draco in his head for a couple of days without even realising, but the Headmaster's presence was obvious and inescapable.

 

"I believe the idea has merit," said Professor Snape, rising suddenly and bringing his wand to bear on Harry. "Tarantallegra!"

 

"Protego!"  Harry shouted, shocked by the suddenness and shoving blindly at the oncoming magic.

 

A bright globe flashed into being around him. The light from Snape's spell bounced off it, flared incandescently, and rebounded on Snape at twice the speed. The Potions Master broke into a quick step-dance. At the same time, Harry shoved involuntarily at the presence in his mind, unable to focus past the itchy disorientation any more, and to his surprise ousted the Headmaster without effort. Professor Dumbledore flew back away from him and landed awkwardly on the sofa.

 

As Harry gaped in horror, Snape continued to dance, despite casting Finite Incantatem. Remus cast it too, but the dance continued. Harry could hear Draco's quiet snicker off to the side. "Potter!"  Snape barked. "End this spell!"

 

"Uh – Finite Incantatem," said Harry, waving his wand vaguely in Snape's direction, and ran over to Professor Dumbledore without registering the silence where Snape's shoes had been clicking. The Headmaster was straightening up on the sofa, eyes twinkling brightly. Was he concussed? "Are you all right?" Harry asked.

 

"Quite all right," said Professor Dumbledore, smiling at him. "That was remarkable, Harry. Your power does seem to have grown tremendously. And you did indeed seem to be suppressing it, until you were defending yourself from a surprise attack. I'm sorry to have given you such a headache."

 

"You didn't," said Harry in surprise.

 

"He has that headache the whole time," said Draco.

 

"Really?" Professor Dumbledore studied Harry again. "Why didn't you say anything, Harry?  Constant pain is never a good sign."

 

"Sorry," said Harry, who had been trained all his life to keep his pain to himself.

 

"It's the siphon, I expect," said Draco, apparently requiring the limelight once again.

 

"Siphon?" Harry croaked.

 

"Yeah. Some of your power is being siphoned out of you. Probably by the Dark Lord," said Draco nonchalantly.

 

"I didn't sense that," said Professor Dumbledore, as Harry gritted his teeth. _He could have mentioned that sooner. A LOT sooner!_  "Why do you think that's what it is?"

 

"Well, I had longer in his head than you, didn't I?" said Draco. "I didn't realise what it was at first, but after thinking about it I'm pretty sure that's what the problem is. That headache never completely goes away." He swung around. "Right, Harry?"

 

"Right, but – I thought I was just under too much stress, or my Occlumency shields were failing and Voldie was getting through – you think he's siphoning off my power?"  Breathing seemed more difficult, suddenly.

 

" _Voldie?_ " Snape repeated, not quite under his breath.

 

"It may indeed merely be stress," said Professor Dumbledore. "We'll run some tests to find out." Harry gulped and braced himself. "No, Harry, no more Legilimency. We're going to run tests on your magic levels and flow using other spells. Thank you for your insights, Mr Malfoy, but you will have to excuse us now."

 

Draco looked outraged, but left the room without arguing.

 

"It'll be all right, Harry," said Remus, apparently realising just how upset Harry was. He came over and put his arm around Harry's shoulders, and Harry leaned into him gratefully. "We'll figure out what's going on, and then we'll help you cope with it, I promise."

 

"Okay," Harry said shakily. "Um – what now?"

 

"Now you lie down on this very comfortable sofa, and I will cast a spell that will measure your magical levels," said Professor Dumbledore, getting up. Harry took his place on the sofa and lay back nervously. "First, some precautions – " Professor Dumbledore waved his wand, and there were two tiny flashes of light and a muffled yelp from under the door. So much for the Extendible Ears. "Ready?" _No..._   "Revelo Magus."

 

A soft, hazy light left Professor Dumbledore's wand and enveloped Harry's body. It felt pleasantly warm and not intrusive, so after a moment Harry relaxed, watching the colour shift from nearly white to pale blue. Then medium blue. Then navy, then darker still.

 

"Salazar," murmured Professor Snape. He sounded stunned.

 

"What? Is this bad?" Did the ever-darkening colour mean his magic was tainted? He should have asked more – or any – questions about how the test worked. He began to tense again.

 

"No, Harry, just unexpected," said Remus gently. "Relax. Everything is all right."

 

He tried to relax. The haze was now glistening ebony, deeper than the deepest black he had ever seen. He couldn't see the three adult wizards through it.

 

"Finite Incantatem," said Professor Dumbledore. The haze dissipated, and he smiled down at Harry. "This is quite unexpected. We'll need some time to decide how best to proceed."

 

"But what did you find out?" Harry pressed.

 

"You're a powerful young man, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore, which didn't tell Harry anything, really.

 

Snape snorted. "That's one way to put it," he said, before Harry could ask another question.

 

"What?" Harry asked. "Why was the mist that colour? Is my power evil or something, because of Voldie?"

 

"No, not at all, Harry," said Remus. "The darker the colour, the stronger the wizard. You are a _very_ powerful wizard, it seems."

 

"We will not address this further until I've had a chance to think about how to proceed," said Professor Dumbledore abruptly. "Harry, I'm going to ask you to refrain from discussing this with your friends for the time being."

 

"Yes, sir," said Harry, not _too_ resentfully. He could use a little time to process this on his own before he was inundated with other opinions. "Um, sir? Is there some sort of siphon on my power?"

 

Professor Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, Harry. I will be using all my resources to find a way to stop that as soon as possible, don't worry."

 

_Don't worry. Right, then._

 

"But my shields – they kept Professor Snape out, and Draco in," Harry protested. "How can Voldie be siphoning my power?" _It is him, right?_

 

"I don't know, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore. "But I will find out. Why don't you go and find your friends? Put this out of your mind for now. We'll figure out what to do." He patted Harry on the head and left the room.

 

 _He's got to be kidding…_   Incredulous, Harry turned to face Remus and Snape, who both also looked startled. "Did he just tell me to forget it and go play?" he demanded, outraged.

 

"Essentially," said Professor Snape, looking darkly amused.

 

"I'm sure he didn't mean it like that," said Remus. "We'll obviously need your help deciding what to do about this. Just for now, why don't you take a break and get your head around it. All right?"

 

"Sure," said Harry, and left the room. He wasn't sure how to feel – shocked, horrified, angry, terrified, sneakily proud at the strength of his magic?  It was all very confusing.

 

"Harry!"  Hermione called as he passed the library. She came to the door and drew him in; Ron, Ginny, and Draco were there too. "What happened? The Ears –" She blushed.

 

"Dumbledore hexed them," said Harry. "I knew you were using them, don't worry, I'm not mad. But Dumbledore told me not to tell you what happened."

 

"Why not?" Draco asked, looking affronted.

 

"He wants to figure out what to do first," said Harry.

 

"So I was right, wasn't I," said Draco, nodding sharply.

 

"Yeah."

 

"This isn't fair," said Ron, looking from one to the other. "Come on, Harry, what happened?"

 

"He – um, he measured my power," said Harry after a minute.

 

"And?" Hermione prompted, when he didn't continue.

 

"And he was surprised," said Harry. His headache was worsening. "Look, guys, I'll tell you when I can, okay? Right now, I just want to go lie down. My head is killing me."

 

"Okay, Harry," said Ginny, neatly cutting off imminent protests from Ron and Hermione. Hermione's expression immediately shifted to worry as Harry reached up to rub at his temples. "You'll let us know if you need anything, right?"

 

"Yeah," said Harry. "See you later, guys." He went up to his room and lay down on the bed, putting his arm over his eyes.

 

A few minutes later, someone tapped his arm. He dropped it and beheld Draco, holding a glass.

 

"Brought you a headache potion," said Draco, looking slightly embarrassed.

 

"Thanks," said Harry. He sat up and drank the potion, and his headache died down.

 

"Look, I'm sorry," said Draco suddenly. "I know this is a lot. I probably shouldn't have said anything."

 

"No, I needed to know," said Harry. "It's just it's a bit much. New difficult things seem to keep happening to me. And this is big and – and freaky."  That sounded better than scary, anyway.

 

"Yeah…" said Draco. Then he grinned. "You need to get your mind off it," he decided.

 

"That's what Dumbledore said," said Harry. "Don't see how, though."

 

"Bet I can do it," said Draco. "How's your head?" He studied Harry's eyes for a moment, and then sprawled down next to Harry and kissed him.

 

After a startled second, Harry kissed back. Draco tasted of tea and cheddar scones, and he knew how to do wonderful things with his tongue. As the kisses went on, Harry was thoroughly distracted from his worries.

 

_Draco_

 

It was about time, Draco thought, still kissing Harry ruthlessly. It had been difficult keeping his hands off Harry, after all they'd done in their minds. He wanted the real thing.

 

Harry in real life was even bonier than his mental construct, but at the moment Draco didn't care, not when Harry was squirming against him and moaning and kissing him back just as passionately. Draco bit gently at Harry's lower lip and was rewarded with a hand raking down his back to squeeze his backside. His hips jerked against Harry's, and both boys groaned.

 

Harry pulled his mouth away from Draco's and nibbled down Draco's throat, biting at the cord that ran down the side of his neck. Draco shuddered and pushed his hips up again, then dropped a hand to Harry's deplorable belt, struggling to undo it.

 

Harry closed a hand on his wrist, stopping him, and pulled back long enough to mutter, "Not yet."

 

"When, then?" Draco mouthed at Harry's ear, rubbing gently at the bulge in his jeans. Harry moaned and pressed closer, his grip slackening on Draco's wrist. Alas, he also shook his head. "Why not?" Draco coaxed.

 

"I'm – I'm not ready for that yet," Harry gasped. "I've never – "

 

"Yet." Draco could work with "yet." But - he reared back and looked Harry in the eye. "Really? But we – "

 

"That was in our minds, Draco," said Harry. "This is different." He grinned suddenly and stroked the bulge in Draco's own jeans. "This is more."

 

Draco gasped and shuddered, and then retaliated with a firmer grip on Harry. "Are you re-e-eally sure, Harry?" he teased, squeezing rhythmically.

 

"Uhhh," said Harry, his own grip becoming a bit spasmodic. He pushed into Draco's hand, breathing harshly, and his eyes fluttered closed. "I – don't stop!"

 

Draco captured his mouth again, and they devoured each other. Harry was opening and closing his hands at random on Draco's waist as he focussed on what Draco was doing to him. He seemed lost in sensation. Draco smiled to himself – here was his chance to make up for Harry's aggression in their last couple of mental encounters.

 

He did respect Harry's wish to keep his clothes on, but he showed him no mercy otherwise, spinning out the kisses and never developing any kind of predictable rhythm. Harry writhed and moaned and once – when Draco bit his collarbone – squawked. Eventually he stiffened and keened and pulsed in Draco's grip.

 

"Yeah, that's it," Draco muttered. He was breathing hard himself, so close to the edge and watching as Harry opened blazing green eyes.

 

"Fantastic," Harry said breathlessly, and seized Draco in a grip just as ruthless as Draco's had been. Draco arched into him, and Harry grinned wickedly and said, "Your turn."

 

Draco threw his head back as Harry tore his shirt off and bit his left nipple, harder than Draco would have imagined would feel so good. He remembered just in time that they couldn't cast any sort of silencing charm, and throttled back the howl that rose in the back of his throat. He could barely think. Harry had one hand clamped on the back seam of his jeans, and it felt far too good to bother pointing out that he never let other people touch him there. Harry's other hand gripped his cock through the jeans in front; he was pinned between the two, and it wasn't long at all before he buried his face in Harry's neck and bit down to muffle his shout as he came.

 

"Ow," said Harry mildly, when Draco had recovered enough to lift his head and flop over sideways next to him on the bed.

 

"Sorry," said Draco, not very sincerely, as he surveyed the livid bite mark. He shifted, uncomfortably aware of his damp and rapidly cooling jeans. "Ugh, wish I had my wand."

 

Harry scrabbled on the floor on his side of the bed and came up with the towel he'd conveniently left there after this morning's shower. "This'll have to do," he said, scrubbing it over Draco and then himself. "All right, there?"

 

"Much better." Draco's eyes drifted shut.

 

He must have dozed, because the next thing he was aware of was the Weasel saying, "Bloody hell, Harry, you could have hung a shirt on the doorknob or something since you can't cast privacy charms here!"

 

"Sorry, Ron," said Harry, sounding mortified. "I wasn't expecting – "

 

"He just jumped you? I'll –"

 

"Ron, no! I'm okay. I think. I mean, he didn't hurt me, I'm just having a weird day…"

 

"I know you're awake – Malfoy," said the Weasel. Draco could _hear_ the "Ferret" he'd not said, and reluctantly gave him points for respecting Harry's request of them. "I came to get you guys for dinner."

 

"Fine, then," said Draco, swinging out of bed and holding up the remains of the T shirt he'd been wearing. "That was one of your better ones, too, Harry," he said, mock mournfully but with a sly look at the Weasel, who looked ill.

 

"Yeah, sorry," said Harry absently. He went to the wardrobe and tossed Draco another shirt and a pair of trousers. "Here you go."

 

Draco examined the shirt. It was scarlet, with the Gryffindor lion emblazoned in gold on the front. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" he said.

 

Harry and the Weasel both laughed. "Go on, it won't kill you," said Harry, changing into the cargo shorts Draco remembered from observing him at the Muggles' house. "Let's go."

 

Draco scowled, but he was still feeling too sated to argue much. He put on the clothes and headed downstairs. Harry and the Weasel joined him about halfway down, Harry rather red in the face.

 

"You didn't say anything nasty to him, did you?" Draco demanded, stopping at the foot of the stairs to glare at the Weasel.

 

"Of course he didn't!" Harry exclaimed. "Come on, guys."

 

"Just a minute, Harry," said the Weasel, meeting Draco's glare. "You go ahead. We'll be there in a minute."

 

Harry looked at them doubtfully for a moment, but then his mouth set and he went on toward the kitchen.

 

"Look, Malfoy, I don't like you and you don't like me," said the Weasel, Master Of The Obvious. "But we both – care about Harry, in (thank Merlin) different ways. If you hurt him, I will kill you, slowly. But if you make him happy, we're okay. I'll be watching. Truce?" He offered his hand.

 

Draco looked at it for a moment, then back up into the other boy's face. "This means I have to call you Weasley now, doesn't it?" he said, to give himself a moment to think.

 

"Or even Ron," said Ron, not lowering his hand. His face was very serious.

 

Draco sighed and shook the hand. "Truce," he said. Really, what was the world coming to, with him being friendly with Weasleys right and left?  Would Longbottom be next?

 

"Good," said Ron, and clapped Draco on the shoulder. Draco lurched with the impact and steadied himself on the banister. Ron didn't seem to notice, already heading for the kitchen. "Come on, I'm starving."

 

Come to think of it, so was Draco. He and Harry had used up a lot of energy.

 

The same people who had been at tea were also at dinner. Professor Snape looked coldly disapproving at the sight of Draco in a Gryffindor T shirt. Dumbledore greeted them with smiles as the two boys took their seats, and said, eyes twinkling, "I think you owe some of these people a small apology, Mr Malfoy, for misleading them so."

 

Draco raised a brow. These people had gotten quite enough concessions out of him for one day, he felt. Also, he hadn't been misleading anyone. What was the old man on about?

 

"Come on, Draco, telling people I could crack mountains," said Harry, with a nervous laugh. Merlin, he was a terrible liar. "They got all wound up."  He stared straight into Draco's eyes, probably unconscious of the pleading look in his own.

 

Having mercy, Draco smirked down the table. "Had you all going, didn't I." He saw the relief in Harry's eyes, the approval in Dumbledore and Professor Snape's, the confusion and even disappointment in many others.

 

"Better watch that, boy," said Mad-Eye Moody. "Some exaggerations wouldn't be so harmless."

 

Draco gritted his teeth and looked down at his dinner, lest he give in to the urge to throw something at the old ex-Auror. Harry, who was sitting across from him, patted his foot with his and smiled hesitantly.

 

"Nice shirt, Malfoy," said Ginny, breaking the brittle silence.

 

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's not exactly my first choice," he said, though he softened his usual sneer. It did give him a nice, safe feeling to wear Harry's clothes, even though they were dreadful.

 

"Indeed," said Professor Snape, as though he could no longer restrain himself. "I find it completely inappropriate for you to wear such a garment, Mr Malfoy."

 

"My wardrobe is not all that extensive," Harry snapped. "Sir."

 

"I did mention the problem earlier," said Draco smoothly, and made a point of shifting a bit uncomfortably. This was not all for effect; the shirt was one that did fit Harry fairly well, but the fit on Draco was still rather – sudden.

 

"Yes, indeed, you have been very generous, Harry," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I shall be visiting Malfoy Manor tomorrow morning, Mr Malfoy, to collect some clothes and your wand. Is there anything you wish for particularly?"

 

"My homework," said Draco immediately, sliding a glance at Granger. "It's in my desk."

 

"Very well."  Professor Dumbledore went back to his potato.

 

"They may not let us take parchments out of the Manor," Tonks warned.

 

"It's just homework," Draco protested. He really didn't want to have to do it all over again. His Potions essay in particular was a work of genius.

 

"The Minister's very interested in what you were asked to study this summer," said Shacklebolt. "The scans on the library showing the latest books read alarmed him a bit."

 

Books on wards and on spells of the mind…no wonder. Not to mention Seraphine Slytherin's book, which he'd used for the essay for the tutor. Draco scowled.

 

"What sort of books were you reading?" Granger asked curiously.

 

"Books for my extra studies," said Draco, scowl shifting into a full-powered sneer. _Merlin,_ he was tired of being judged!  "All about Mu-" he caught Harry's expression "- ggles and their place in Wizarding society."

 

"No wonder, then," said Granger with a sniff.

 

Draco looked away from Harry's disappointed face and finished his dinner. "If you would all excuse me?" he said tightly, and left before anyone replied.

 

Not for the first time, he wished he had his own room. He wanted to be able to go somewhere alone and shut the door without being chased down five minutes later by a suspicious crowd. For the moment, he went up to the fourth floor and into a bedroom that had obviously remained unused for many years. He could ignore the dust; he just wanted a break from all the Gryffindors.


	4. Chapter 4

_Harry_

 

Harry watched Draco leave the dining room with a feeling of gloom. Harry had thought he was doing so much better, but here he went spouting that anti-Muggle crap again. At least he hadn't said Mudblood.

 

"Got an attitude on him, that boy," Moody growled. "It'll do him no good."

 

"I know, it's so strange," said Ginny airily. "Just because he's in a house surrounded by people who think he's evil, too."

 

"Ginny!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed.

 

Hermione scowled at Ginny as Harry bit back his surprised laugh. "You're fine with his attitude, then?" Hermione snapped.

 

"Not at all," said Ginny, unperturbed. "But I'm not surprised by it. He's never been taught any better. That's sort of up to us, isn't it?"

 

Hermione looked struck by this. Ron rolled his eyes.

 

"That doesn't give you the right to be rude to Auror Moody," said Mrs Weasley.

 

"Sorry," said Ginny, in a voice showing clearly how not-sorry she was. "You might spare a little thought to the topic of self-fulfilling prophecies, though, sir."

 

Moody scowled ferociously and left the table. Dumbledore chuckled, and even Snape gave Ginny a look of wintery approval. Remus was grinning down at his plate. Mrs Weasley sighed and said, "We'll be having a little chat after dinner, dear."

 

"Yes, Mum," said Ginny.

 

"I guess it's true that he doesn't know any better," said Hermione in musing tones. "Staying here could be a real opportunity for him."

 

"Kindly do not speak of Mr Malfoy as if he is some sort of social charity case when you know so little about wizarding culture as a whole," said Snape coldly. "You have more to gain from his company than he from yours."

 

"Whose fault is it that Muggleborns graduate from Hogwarts with that ignorance, sir?" demanded Hermione, eyes flashing. "Wizards at least get that ridiculous Muggle Studies class. Why isn't there a Wizarding Studies class?"

 

 _Why wasn't there?_ Harry wondered. It would make getting along between the two cultures so much easier…but maybe that was why. Wizards in general didn't seem much interested in the Muggle world, which seemed stupidly insular. After all, the Wizarding population was ludicrously outnumbered by the Muggles. It was amazing they were still able to remain hidden in this day and age.

 

"And do you really want to see Malfoy run down the path that bigotry puts him on?" Hermione concluded pointedly.

 

Snape curled his lip but left the table without speaking.

 

Ron leaned over and whispered to Harry, "I thought nobody could make Snape shut up. Who else can we make go away? How about Dung? Gotta admit, he creeps me out."

 

Harry snorted a laugh. Mundugus Fletcher creeped him out, too. He raised his voice a little. "Dung!" he said. The filthy bundle of rags at the end of the table started. "I heard The Leaky Cauldron's got firewhisky at half price for the next hour!"

 

"Really?" Ron whispered. Ginny giggled.

 

"Where would I have heard that?" Harry whispered back. Hermione looked torn between disapproval and amusement, but Harry noticed that amusement definitely had the leading edge.

 

Mundungus got to his feet. "'Scuse me, ladies, Dumbledore, Lupin," he said. "Got to be going now - just remembered – urgent appointment – " He vanished out the door. Remus, grinning, left a few minutes later.

 

The teenagers dissolved into giggles. Dumbledore smiled tolerantly and said, "I'm afraid I must be going as well, Molly. Dinner was delicious. Harry, I'll see you tomorrow morning for our first lesson together."

 

"Yes, sir," said Harry.

 

"Wait, Professor," said Kingsley. "I need to ask, did you ask Harry to do a spell earlier?"

 

"I did."

 

"Well – " Kingsley produced a piece of parchment and handed it to Dumbledore. "He's got another warning from the Ministry. They want me to take his wand."

 

Harry could feel the colour drain from his face. He took a firm grip on his wand and edged away from the two Aurors left in the room.

 

"This will never do," said Dumbledore. "I will speak to them. Meanwhile…Harry, your wand, please?"

 

Harry didn't move. "Professor –"

 

"If you please, Harry," said Dumbledore, holding out his hand. Mrs Weasley made a small, distressed sound. Hermione's eyes were wide.

 

Slowly, Harry placed his wand in Dumbledore's hand. The old wizard ran his fingers down the length of holly and said something very softly; there was a sudden flash of orange light. Dumbledore held out the wand.

 

"What did you do?" Harry asked, snatching it back and hurriedly inspecting it. It seemed perfectly intact.

 

"He took the Ministry monitoring spell off," said Kingsley in disapproving tones. "You'll have to come in to the Ministry with me to explain this, Professor."

 

"I had no other intention, my boy," said Dumbledore, smiling reassuringly at him. "We will confirm everything at the Ministry tomorrow after we visit Malfoy Manor. Good evening."  And he Apparated away before anyone could say anything else.

 

"Wicked, mate!" Ron breathed, as Harry tried to calm down. He still had his wand. He was not expelled from Hogwarts.

 

"I expect you not to abuse this privilege," said Kingsley solemnly. Harry met his eyes and nodded; plainly the Auror had reservations about turning Harry loose with an unmonitored wand. Harry would do nothing to make him think he should confiscate it.

 

"Quite right," said Molly. "All right, you lot, let's get the table cleared…"

 

As he helped Ron clear the table – it was the girls' turn to wash the dishes – Harry concluded that today had been too full, with too many ups and downs. Perhaps not so strangely, he really just wanted a hug, a reassuring hug from someone who didn't expect anything out of him.

 

 _Fat chance_ , he told himself morosely. Even his friends expected him to be able to cope just fine with anything that happened.

 

Once the table was cleared, Harry headed for the kitchen door, saying, "I'm knackered. I think I'm just going to go to bed."

 

"You okay, mate?" Ron asked worriedly, following him just outside the door. It was only half seven.

 

"Yeah. It's just been a – long day," said Harry. "I need it to be over."

 

"Want company?"

 

Harry smiled. "No, thanks. Go corner Hermione in the library when she finishes the dishes."

 

Ron turned scarlet. "Uh –"

 

Harry laughed. "See you later, mate."  He headed up the steps, leaving Ron sputtering behind him.

 

His smile faded as he found himself alone, and he went back to wanting a hug. How was he supposed to deal with the facts that a.) he was apparently incredibly powerful, b.) that apparently didn't do him any good, because he was suppressing his own power, and c.) Voldemort was apparently going right ahead and helping himself to that power without a problem? Harry rubbed his aching forehead fretfully.

 

"Harry?" It was Remus. "Are you all right?"

 

"Oh, Remus. Yeah," said Harry wearily. "Just going upstairs."

 

"Big day," said Remus. He studied Harry's slumped posture for a moment, then took a deep breath and folded him in a hug.

 

Stunned, Harry stiffened for a minute before relaxing cautiously. Remus smelled of dust and books, with something wilder just on the edge of that. His arms were warm and strong, and his hand rubbed soothing circles on Harry's back. Harry rested his cheek on the soft fabric of Remus's shirt and sighed as some of the tension melted out of him.

 

Maybe this was what it was like to have a father to lean on.

 

After a few minutes, he leaned away a bit, and Remus let him go at once.

 

"All right, there, Harry?" Remus asked. "I know it's a lot to deal with. Just remember we're here to help."

 

"Thanks, Remus," said Harry, smiling at him, still feeling the warmth of the other man's arms. "I feel better. I'm sure I'll be in better shape after a good night's sleep."

 

"Good night, then," said Remus, and headed off in the direction of the library. Harry went up to his room and changed into his pyjamas.

 

Draco wasn't in there. Harry spared a minute or so to wonder where he was, but he was more caught up in his own ruminations. He took especial care to clear his mind and strengthen his Occlumency barrier as much as he could – damned if Voldemort was going to get any power from him without a fight!  His headache dimmed almost to nothing.

 

He'd deal with the rest tomorrow.

 

Much later that night, he half woke to hear Ron snoring and Draco mumbling fitfully to himself. Harry's forehead was aching again, so he concentrated on strengthening his shields some more. This had the effect of waking him up more, just in time to see Draco's arm flail out of the covers out of the corner of his eye.

 

"I won't!" Draco shouted, and woke himself up.

 

"Won't what?" Harry asked.

 

"What? Harry?" Draco's head turned in his direction. "Won't what, what?"

 

"You said, 'I won't'," said Harry. "I just wondered what you were dreaming."

 

"Oh." Draco ran his hands back through his hair. "I – I don't remember," he said. "Doesn't matter. Did I wake you?"

 

"No."

 

"Headache?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"You need to do something about that right quick," Draco observed.

 

"Well spotted," said Harry sarcastically. "I thought I'd just let him have whatever he wanted, myself."

 

"Urgh," said Draco, and appeared to shudder. "Don't talk like a Death Eater. It's creepy. Miserable sycophants," he added parenthetically.

 

Harry laughed. "You've sure changed your tune."

 

"Not really," said Draco seriously. "Purebloods – and especially Malfoys – are superior to all other forms of life. It's disgusting that my father bows down before anyone, let alone a horrible, magic-warped thing like Voldemort."

 

"Oh," said Harry, taken aback. "Um, you really think you're superior just because you were born who you are?"

 

"Of course," said Draco, without uncertainty or hesitation.

 

Harry sat up. "So, is your dad now less superior because he bows down to someone?" he wanted to know.

 

Draco appeared to think about that. "I would have to say yes," he said at last. "It's a betrayal of his blood and position."

 

"Can people earn superiority?" Harry asked next. "By, like, inventing something brilliant or something?"

 

"Or defeating a megalomaniac Dark Lord? I suppose," said Draco. "Looking to raise your status?"

 

"No!" said Harry sharply. "I shouldn't have to. I'm not inferior to you just because of some accident of birth."

 

"Okay," said Draco in an indulgent tone.

 

"Wouldn't you rather know you're great because of something you achieved yourself?" Harry asked, frustrated.

 

"I've achieved plenty myself," said Draco, sounding annoyed. "I –"

 

"Could you achieve some silence?" Ron said suddenly, sounding even more annoyed. "It's the middle of the damn night. Shut up or go away!"  He pulled his pillow over his head.

 

Draco huffily got out of bed and stomped toward the door. "Can't sleep anyway," he muttered. Then, "Ow!" He hopped the rest of the way to the door, having tripped on Harry's discarded trainer. At the door, he paused and looked back. "You coming or not?"

 

He couldn't sleep either, Harry decided, and followed Draco out of the room and down to the kitchen. He fixed himself some hot chocolate and got out the tin of biscuits, then relented at Draco's look and fixed him some chocolate too.

 

"So you can't cook," he said, handing Draco the mug. "What have you achieved then, separate from your birth?"

 

"I can cook," said Draco, looking stung. Then he grinned slyly. "But you were already fixing the drinks."

 

"I'll expect you to prove that," said Harry, rolling his eyes.

 

"Bring it on." They clacked their mugs together and drank.

 

"So, what else?"

 

"Do I have to prove myself worthy or something? I got on the Quidditch team. No," he added, as Harry opened his mouth, "my father did not buy my way on. Those brooms were a gift after I made the team; I tried out like everybody else."

 

"Oh," said Harry after a minute.

 

Draco sneered. "Also, I am tied for number one student in the school. And I can assure you my father would never stoop to paying for grades. And – wait, why am I justifying myself to you?"

 

"I asked," said Harry with a shrug.

 

"Well, what about you?"

 

"You mean, besides bouncing Avada Kedavra off my head? I'm a great Seeker. Youngest on a House team in a century," said Harry. Quidditch was really the one thing that was all his.

 

"Oh, don't remind me," said Draco, but he was smiling a little. "I'm forced to admit you are a great Seeker. It's good to have some real competition."

 

"It is. You're a great Seeker too," said Harry generously. "Um – I killed a Basilisk once."

 

"You did not!"

 

"I did. In the Chamber of Secrets," said Harry, wondering now why he had brought it up. This was probably not a good subject to get into with Draco.

 

"The monster was a Basilisk? Wicked," Draco breathed. Then he frowned. "Wait, how did you get into the Chamber?"

 

"Parseltongue," said Harry.

 

"Figures."

 

"Well, I think that counts as something from birth," said Harry, who was growing more uncomfortable. "But you forgot one of your great skills," he added, smiling and hoping to lighten the mood.

 

"Oh, and what's that?"

 

"You're a great kisser."

 

Draco snorted hot chocolate through his nose in surprise. When he had stopped spluttering he said, "We shall never speak of what just happened."

 

Harry, speechless with laughter, made a gesture of kindly agreement.

 

"I'm glad you appreciate my talent," Draco went on. "My kissing talent," he added hastily, grinning.

 

Harry grinned back. "We should go upstairs," he said, more than ready to table serious discussion. "I could appreciate it some more."

 

"Brilliant idea, Harry."

 

_Draco_

 

Rather than take Harry back to the room they shared with the Wea – Ron, Draco led him to the room he'd spent the afternoon in. It was just at the end of the hall from their room, anyway.

 

Harry sneezed. Repeatedly.

 

"You're killing the mood, Harry," Draco complained, as Harry sniffled.

 

"Sorry," said Harry, laughing a little. "It's just – the dust –" Suddenly he looked inspired, and pulled his wand out of the waistband of his pyjama trousers, flourishing it in a wide arc as Draco tried to grab his wrist. "Scourgify!"

 

"You idiot!" Draco cried.

 

"What's your problem? Look how well it worked – I was just going for less dust," said Harry, looking around as they stepped into the now surgically-clean room. Every surface gleamed in the light through the door.

 

"It looks great," said Draco. "But there aren't any spells on the house to keep the Ministry off."

 

"Don't worry about it," Harry told him. "Dumbledore took the monitoring spells off my wand." He waved it quickly at the door with a muttered "Silencio." Then he stowed it back in his waistband and laid a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Want a snog, then?"

 

Draco told himself that maybe it _was_ Harry's turn for a shocking revelation, and who was he to turn the man down when he wanted a snog? He slung his arms around Harry and bent to kiss him.

 

Harry leaned up eagerly, his tongue warm and nimble in Draco's mouth. His hands curled into Draco's shoulder blades as he pressed closer. Merlin, he was bony! 

 

But at that moment Draco didn't much care; he pulled Harry hard against him, running his hands down his back to cup his arse.

 

Harry's breath hitched, and he pulled away to gasp in some air. Draco ran his mouth down the side of Harry's neck, and licked the bruise he'd bitten in the juncture of his neck and shoulder earlier that day. Harry gasped again and pressed even closer than before, then turned his head and licked Draco's ear.

 

Draco squeaked ignominiously and retaliated by sucking up another love-bite next to the first. Harry's hands raked down his back to clench on his backside, and he shuddered. Harry licked behind his ear this time, and Draco couldn't help thrusting against him, to Harry's approving growl.

 

Harry really was annoyingly short. Draco's neck was at just a little too much of an angle as he continued to kiss his throat, so he lifted his head momentarily to get his bearings and began walking Harry backwards toward the bed. Harry went unresisting as Draco kissed his mouth again.

 

He pulled back when Draco tumbled him onto the bed, though. Draco saw him open his mouth to speak and kissed him fiercely again, and Harry relaxed against him, holding him close with a powerful grip.

 

Lying down was much more comfortable, and Draco returned to licking Harry's collarbone with relish. Harry moaned and squirmed deliciously against him, hands coming up to tangle in his hair. Pyjamas made the contact so much closer, Draco thought dizzily, pushing his hips against Harry.

 

Harry was pushing right back, and then suddenly – Draco wasn't sure quite how – he was _under_ Harry, and Harry had gotten his pyjama shirt off and was practically _gnawing_ his left nipple. Heat roared through him as he found that Harry was not to be moved from his position. Draco had to lie there and hang on and take it.

 

Harry licked his navel, swirling his tongue around and in. Draco, usually ticklish, felt no desire to break free. Quite the contrary. He tried to push his hips up and found them pinned to the bed in an adamant grip. "Just be still," Harry said, looking up with a flashing grin.

 

"Harry – please –" Draco gasped. Harry's mouth traced the waistband of his pyjama trousers, and he whined. He felt like he would explode any second. "Please –"

 

"Please? Please stop?"  Draco shook his head frantically, and Harry laughed, a low, sexy laugh Draco would never have thought him capable of. "Please…suck you?"

 

Draco cried out, disbelievingly. Would Harry really – _yes, he would_.

 

Draco writhed under the hot mouth on him. So what if this was clearly Harry's first try at this – he had _great_ instincts. Draco squalled and gasped and felt like the top of his head was about to come off. Every time he started to tense up, Harry would back off, keeping him on the edge. Draco recognised the technique from their mental bath together, but in real life it was so much… _more_.

 

"Shhhh," Harry said in an incongruously soothing voice, as Draco sobbed with passion. "Shhh. I've got you."

 

_"Harry…"_

 

"You want to come?"

 

_"Please!"_

 

"Come," said Harry, suddenly dropping his head and engulfing Draco's entire cock in his throat. He choked a little, but swallowed instead of pulling back. Two fingers rubbed behind Draco's balls at the same time, and Draco wondered that he didn't scream the whole house down as he came, despite the Silencing Charm. His ears rang and his whole body buzzed in the aftermath.

 

When he had more or less got his breath back, he looked up. Harry was lying beside him, propped on one elbow and wearing a very smug grin.

 

"Didn't give me much of a chance to flaunt my technique," Draco said, grinning back.

 

Harry shrugged. "You'll have your chance. I wanted to play tonight. That okay with you, then?"

 

"Anytime," said Draco with great sincerity. "You've got some excellent technique yourself." He was drowsily surprised at the hint of displeasure in his tone, but dammit, Harry was his!

 

Harry gave his hair a little tug, and then smoothed it back. "You clearly missed the fun sections in the library," he commented. Draco hoped he didn't look as relieved as he felt. He could recognize that it was unfair, when he had lots of, ha ha, hands-on practice, which Harry seemed not to resent.

 

Harry patted him on the head (pretty hard) and hunted around for a few minutes, finally coming up with his wand from somewhere at the foot of the bed. He waved it over them and murmured a cleaning charm, and at once Draco felt as though he'd just had a hot and thorough shower. His eyelids drooped even more.

 

"We should probably go back to our room," said Harry, in a slow and sleepy tone.

 

"Stay here," Draco urged, eyes closed. He slung one arm around Harry to keep him in place and snuggled down on the immaculate pillow. "No Ron glaring in the morning."

 

"No, just freaking out because we're missing," said Harry, though he sounded tempted. He took a deep breath. "Come on. Maybe we can sleep in here tomorrow night."

 

"We will sleep in here from now on," said Draco firmly, waking up a bit. "It is your house, Harry."

 

"So it is. Let's go then."

 

Harry took down the Silencing Charm, and the two of them crept back down the hall and into their own beds. Draco could barely walk straight, he was so sleepy, and he fell into oblivion as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

The next morning, his kiss to wake Harry was long and slow and sloppy, and quite a bit later than usual. Ron wasn't even in the room, so Draco took his time and explored Harry's mouth thoroughly. Harry stretched and murmured and kissed back for a while, then suddenly stiffened and sat up, so fast that he almost cracked heads with Draco, who pulled back only just in time.

 

"What time is it?" Harry asked, leaping out of bed with none of his previous languor and diving for the wardrobe.

 

"Late morning," said Draco. "You're the one with the working wand." He caught the T shirt and cargo pants Harry tossed at him, brightening as he remembered that he should have his own clothes today – at least some of them. His movements quickened considerably.

 

"Tempus," said Harry, fingers brushing his wand but not pulling it from his pocket. Draco tried not to gape. Harry could do that even with his power smashed down? That was _so hot_. He shivered.

 

"Aack! Half nine!" Harry cried, oblivious. "I have to meet Professor Dumbledore for a lesson!"  He galloped out the door and clattered down the stairs to the kitchen, Draco hot on his heels.

 

Professor Dumbledore was not in the kitchen when they arrived. Ron, Granger, and Ginny were just finishing their breakfasts, and Professor Lupin was sipping tea in a somnolent manner. Professor Snape was sitting at the table with his arms folded, glowering at the door.

 

As soon as Draco appeared he said, "Hurry with your breakfast, and then meet me in the potions lab, Mr Malfoy. We have a great deal of work to do." That said, he rose and swept out.

 

"And good morning to you, too," Draco muttered, and Ginny snickered.

 

"'Bout time, Malfoy, Harry," said Ron. "Just how late were you guys up last night?"

 

"Awhile," said Harry, with an apprehensive look at Mrs Weasley, who looked unhappy with the idea that he'd not been sleeping sweetly all night long.

 

"Did you have a nightmare, Harry?" Granger asked.

 

"No, just a headache," said Harry. "And then Draco and I got into a – debate."

 

"A loud one," contributed Ron, sipping the last of his tea.

 

"Well, we didn't burden you long," Draco snapped, starting on his porridge. Mrs Weasley was the best cook he'd ever known; even her porridge was delicious.

 

"Did you get anything resolved?" Lupin asked, smiling, and Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head.

 

"Too hard-headed, that one," he said, jerking his chin in Draco's direction. Draco would have come back with a scathingly witty retort, but his mouth was full, so he just had to glare.

 

"But you need your sleep –" Mrs Weasley began, when the kitchen door swung open and Dumbledore and Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the room. Draco saw with disappointment that they didn't seem to be carrying anything.

 

"Ah, good morning, ladies and gentlemen," said Dumbledore affably. Kingsley, behind him, looked solemn. "Harry, I'll be ready for our lesson directly after breakfast. Mr Malfoy, I believe this belongs to you." He pulled Draco's wand out of his sleeve and handed it to him.

 

Draco ran his fingers over it gloatingly. His wand! He hadn't realised how much the lack of it had chafed until it was in his hands once again. It seemed intact, no new scratches or foreign finger marks…he looked up at Dumbledore and said, "Thank you."

 

"You're quite welcome, my boy," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. "You'll realise, of course, that you can't actually use it until school starts."

 

 _"_ Of course," said Draco _. But Harry can use his…of course I'm just the Death Eater's son…_

 

"I have some other things for you as well," said Dumbledore, taking a small bag from Kingsley and pouring its contents onto the table. This turned out to be five boxes the size of matchboxes; after a moment Draco recognised them with a small shock as his wardrobes. Dumbledore had brought _all_ his clothes from home!

 

"Thank you!" he said again, smiling up at the Headmaster.

 

"You're welcome," said Dumbledore. "We'll have to find somewhere to put them, of course, but there's no reason for you not to have your clothes."

 

"I know where we can put them," said Harry, and Draco nodded.

 

"Are those all full of clothes?" Granger asked with a hint of disdain.

 

"Of course," said Draco, with considerably more. "Presentation is vital."

 

"Nice, Malfoy," said Ginny. "Maybe you can lend some to Harry, sort of return the favour."

 

Draco turned a measuring eye on Harry, who blushed and shifted uncomfortably. "They wouldn't fit," Harry said.

 

"They'd fit better than your cousin's old things," said Ron flatly.

 

"Ron!" Harry cried, with an embarrassed look at Draco.

 

"Is that why your clothes are so big?" Draco demanded. "That's not on. Why don't you have clothes of your own?"

 

"I do," said Harry defensively.

 

"School uniforms," Ginny murmured, and Harry gave her a harassed look.

 

"The stuff I have is fine…" he began, but Draco held up a hand.

 

"No, Harry, it is not," he said. "Clothes have many purposes beyond just covering up your arse."

 

Lupin laughed into his tea as Draco belatedly remembered the adults in the room.

 

"At the moment, however, we must put sartorial considerations aside," said Dumbledore. "Harry, if you will accompany myself and Kingsley?" Harry nodded and followed the two men out of the room, still looking rather flushed.

 

"Didn't you need to meet Professor Snape?" Lupin asked Draco, who nodded, bolted the last of his tea, and hurried off to the Potions lab, just as glad to escape the company of the Weasleys and Granger for the moment. He did scoop the little wardrobes into his pocket before he went, though.

 

As he walked through the door of the lab, Professor Snape flicked his wand from his seat on a bench against the wall, said "Legilimens," and slumped over. Draco lunged forward and caught the man before he could fall off and break his formidable nose.

 

A second later he felt the Professor's presence in his head, and concentrated on his Occlumency long enough to enshroud him in mist and usher him out, firmly but – he hoped – politely. Professor Snape blinked and sat up.

 

"All right, sir?" Draco asked.

 

"A curious sensation," said Professor Snape. "Excellent Occlumency, Mr Malfoy."

 

"Thank you," said Draco, now finding the time to be outraged that the man had just marched into his head without a by-your-leave. _Much the way you did to Harry…_  But that was different. Wasn't it?  "Testing the potion, I see."

 

"Indeed. Occlumency does seem to be a good defence against it," Professor Snape noted, going to the workbench and writing things down on a sheet of parchment. "I believe this is a potion I was working on and had put on hiatus. The notes are familiar to me."

 

"You think the Zabinis stole them?" Draco asked, intrigued.

 

"It would not surprise me. It does surprise me that Mr Zabini made such a success out of it – his Potions skills being what they are," said Professor Snape drily.

 

"Well, I did help," Draco reminded him.

 

"Yes. We shall have to see how your idea for eliminating the headache works," said Professor Snape. Draco hoped fervently that it would work perfectly. He couldn't even imagine the sort of mood Snape would inflict on everyone if he had even half that headache. "Meanwhile, set up two cauldrons to brew Burn Healing Paste."

 

Draco did so, making sure to keep his barriers strong; he knew Professor Snape's skill at casting silently and had no desire to host the man's mind again. It had been like having pepper sprinkled inside his skull. How had Harry not noticed him?

 

After a long afternoon spent brewing potions that Draco strongly suspected were bound for the Hogwarts Infirmary, they took a break for tea. Draco had brushed off two more attempts by Professor Snape to sneak into his head, and been commended on his Occlumency each time. After the second time, he had asked the man to stop, as he had to concentrate on the Stomach-Soothing Potion he was brewing, and somewhat to his surprise the Professor had complied.

 

Harry was already at the table when the two Slytherins arrived in the kitchen, looking rather drained and being fussed over by Granger and Ron. Mrs Weasley was setting a very full plate in front of him, saying, "Come now, dear, you need to get your strength up."

 

"I don't know if I can eat all that," Harry said with a small smile, but then handily fended off Draco's attempt to steal his cheddar scones. "But I'll give it a go. Get your own scones, Draco."

 

"If you insist, Potter," said Draco, and filled a plate under Mrs Weasley's benevolent eye. When Harry gave him a startled look, he said, "What?"

 

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked.

 

"No, why?"

 

"You've made kind of a point about being on a first-name basis all week," said Ginny, "but you just called him Potter."

 

Draco shrugged. "Just a slip of the tongue, I guess," he said. "So what have you been doing all day?"

 

"I finished my Transfigurations essay," said Granger brightly, reminding Draco about his own homework. He sighed; unless it was in his wardrobes, he was doomed to do it all over. "It's really fascinating, the principles of Animate to Inanimate Transfiguration –"

 

He himself had had several pithy things to say on the subject in his own essay, Draco recalled gloomily. "What do you think of Jensen's Rule of Retained Intelligence?" he asked, feeling a spark of interest. After all, Granger was tied with him for number-one student in the school.

 

"I'm not sure it can really be valid in some cases," Granger said seriously. "The Phillips-West study seems to indicate the dangers of relying too much –"

 

"That study was never successfully repeated," Draco interrupted, and he and Granger were off on a discussion of Transfiguration theory that left everyone else at the table in the dust. Harry seemed content to eat his meal quietly, only chatting incidentally to Ginny once in a while. Ron was conversing earnestly with Lupin about some point or other of DADA.

 

All in all, the meal passed quickly. Afterward, Harry said, "So, Draco, want to get those wardrobes put away, then?"

 

"Great idea, Potter," said Draco, pushing back from the table. "Delicious as always, Mrs Weasley," he added, and she smiled at him even as Harry was giving him a strange look.

 

He and Harry went up to the room. "Look – Malfoy," said Harry. "I think you should have this room to yourself.  I don't think there'll be room for me with all these wardrobes," he added jokingly, though there was a hint of something off in his tone.

 

"Fine," said Draco after a minute, squashing his feeling of hurt and rejection. "It is your house, after all."

 

"Yeah. So, where do you want these?" Harry and Draco situated the wardrobes around the edges of the room, and Harry restored them to their full size. The room did seem rather crowded once that was done, but it wasn't like the bed wasn't roomy, Draco reflected sulkily.

 

"I'll change and get your clothes back to you," he said abruptly, rummaging in one of the wardrobes for trousers, another for pants, and another for a shirt.

 

"No hurry," said Harry, going a bit red as Draco pulled off the T shirt he was wearing and turning for the door.

 

"Just hang on," said Draco. He dressed quickly in his own clothes and handed Harry's trousers and T shirt back to him. "Tomorrow you'll wear something of mine," he commanded, already mentally earmarking a Slytherin T shirt for Harry's use in the morning.

 

"Whatever," Harry muttered, heading out the door. "Look, Malfoy, I'm pretty knackered. We're just hanging out in the library if you want to join us." He headed out before Draco could say anything.

 

"What the hell?" Draco muttered. "I haven't even seen him all day." Sullenly he fetched his few things from the shared room and put them away in his new domain. Then he headed down to the library to find out what had gotten Harry's wand in a knot.


	5. Chapter 5

_Harry_

 It had been a bad day, Harry decided, lying on the couch in the library; he really was tired. Ron and Ginny were playing chess, and Hermione was alternating between reading a book and shooting concerned glances at Harry. It was mildly annoying, on top of his unease at Draco's sudden return to last names. After what they'd been up to yesterday, that had been a slap in Harry's face.

 

Had he been so clumsy? Was it so obvious he'd never done that before? Harry snorted at that. _Of course it was, you idiot._ Draco had seemed to enjoy himself, though. Harry had been pretty caught up in the passion himself, but it's hard to misinterpret someone shouting your name and coming down your throat. Draco being Draco, if Harry had been too terrible, Draco would probably have subjected him to a lengthy and biting critique. But then what could Draco's (Malfoy's) problem be?

 

It was a bit much on top of everything else. The morning session with Professor Dumbledore had been gruelling, to say the least. It seemed they'd gone over every spell Harry knew, trying to coax that extra burst of power out of him. It hadn't much worked, even when he'd been defending himself in a mock duel against Professor Dumbledore. It had got so he could feel something in him reining him in, but that wasn't much help, in his opinion. He was left feeling inadequate and scared on all fronts.

 

Now his head was aching, despite his best Occlumency, and he felt small and embarrassed about how far he had let himself lose control with Draco (Malfoy, dammit). Clearly the other boy didn't take such things as seriously as Harry did.

 

Then again, Harry was fifteen and had had two kisses to his name before his encounters with Draco. Draco was older and clearly had far more experience than that, as indeed who their age did not?  Obviously this was just another instance where Harry was going to be strange and left out of the ordinary stream of things.

 

A questing presence brushed across his Occlumency shields, and he shoved it away in irritation. Snape had obviously taken the potion, and of course he wasn't hesitating to attack Harry's shields. That was expected, but this was the sixth time, and Harry was tired of it. The attempted intrusions were abrasive, and his head hurt enough already.

 

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked once again, laying down her book to frown over at him when he sighed.

 

"I'll be fine, Hermione, it's just a headache," he said tiredly.

 

"Do you want a headache potion?"

 

"I took one before I came in here. I just need to be still and let it work," said Harry.

 

"Well, let me know if you need anything," said Hermione, and reached for her book again.

 

The door slammed open to reveal Draco Malfoy, who stridently demanded, "What the hell is your problem, Potter?"

 

Harry winced. "I'm tired and I have a headache," he snapped. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't shout."

 

Malfoy came into the room, a look of concern layering thinly over the anger on his face. "I repeat: what the hell is your problem?" he reiterated in a softer but no less insistent voice.

 

"I thought I just told you," said Harry grumpily, shutting his eyes as Malfoy stomped nearer.

 

"Leave him alone, Malfoy," said Ron, looking up from the chessboard as Ginny took one of his pawns. "He's had a bad enough day without you making it worse."

 

"I bet you didn't have Professor Snape poking at your brain all morning," said Malfoy, ignoring Ron and looming over Harry. Harry could feel his shadow even with his eyes shut.

 

"Why would you think that?" Hermione put in. "Harry's was probably the first mind he went after once he took that stuff. He's been bothering him all day."

 

"Really?" Harry opened his eyes at the less-angry tone of Malfoy's voice, and found him peering curiously at him. "Feels like pepper in your head, doesn't it? I don't get how you didn't notice me in your head, if it feels like that."

 

"You didn't," said Harry, closing his eyes again. "And Snape hasn't made it past my shields, anyway. It's just tiresome having to ward him off."

 

"I can Occlude, too, you know," said Malfoy, apparently nettled by this. "You look terrible, Potter," he observed dispassionately.

 

"Like I said, it's been a bad day," said Harry.

 

"Have you had a headache potion? I bet that --"

 

Harry gritted his teeth. "Yeah, Malfoy, I have," he interrupted. "I just need some _peace_ and _quiet_."

 

Malfoy sat down on the end of the couch, uncaring of the uneasy glance Harry sent towards his clearly disapproving friends. While Ron glared, Ginny took one of his bishops.

 

"So, are you somehow mad about getting to wear my clothes?  Because I can guarantee you'll look better than you ever have before," said Malfoy.

 

"Oh, thanks, good to know what you think of my looks," Harry muttered. Although what else had he expected?  He knew he wasn't much to look at.

 

"Potter –"

 

_Gryffindors charge ahead where others fear to tread…_ "Look, why are you back to calling me Potter all of a sudden?" Harry burst out, though he tried to keep his voice low in deference to his headache.

 

"Do I?" Malfoy looked genuinely surprised.

 

"This afternoon you've called him nothing but," said Ginny, taking one of Ron's knights.

 

"Really?"

 

"Yes, Malfoy," said Hermione. "How could you not notice? We thought you two had had a fight or something. "

 

"Of course not," said Malfoy, looking earnestly at Harry. "Far from it. You didn't think I was mad, did you, H - Potter?"  He scowled horrifically. "I just deliberately tried to say H – your first name – and couldn't," he said slowly.

 

Harry sat up. "Couldn't?" It wasn't something wrong or lacking about him?

 

Malfoy shook his head. "H – Potter," he said, and scowled even more horrifically. "Professor Snape!"

 

"I thought you said you could Occlude your mind," said Ron snidely, discovering that he was in check and swearing.

 

"Language," Ginny murmured. "You think Snape messed with your head, Malfoy?"

 

"That's exactly what I think," said Malfoy wrathfully. "It's the only explanation. He never did like me calling H – Potter by his first name. He must have planted an Imperio on me before I could get him out of my head."  He leaned forward until his forehead was almost touching Harry's. "Look into my eyes and say 'Finite Incantatem Imperio'." At this range, a single silver eye took up Harry's entire field of vision.

 

Laughing a little, Harry backed up a bit until he could focus on Malfoy's whole face. He gazed deep into the other boy's eyes and said firmly, "Finite Incantatem Imperio!"

 

"Did it work?" Hermione asked.

 

Malfoy blinked. "Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry," he said, and grinned evilly. "Well done. Now I just have to think of a way to show Professor Snape my – appreciation."

 

Harry shivered. His headache was flooding back. "I think I need another headache potion," he said faintly.

 

"You do look pale," said Hermione, as Malfoy jumped up and left the room; Harry sincerely hoped in search of the potion rather than simply being done with their company. Hermione went and fetched a cool damp cloth, which felt marvellous when laid across his brow.

 

Moments later Malfoy showed up with a smoking beaker and said, "Here, drink this. Fresh out of the cauldron; I brewed it myself." Ron made a little protesting noise, but Harry drank the potion without hesitation.

 

His headache seeped away to almost nothing at once, just the little warning prickle in his scar that was as good as he ever got. "Thanks, Draco," he said. Looked like he could drop the "Malfoy" again. What a relief.

 

"My pleasure," said Draco, beaming at him. "You just lie back and relax." He looked over at Ginny, who was smirking over Ron's defeat. Ron was clearly sulking. "Game of chess?"

 

"You're on," she said, and Draco joined her at the chessboard. Hermione shook her head and returned to her book; Ron wandered aimlessly for a bit before settling down with the newspaper, and Harry lay back and closed his eyes, feeling much happier about his day. It was amazing how your outlook improved when your head wasn't splitting.

 

He did decide to take a useful hint from his earlier angst, though, and slow things down with Draco. He was obviously already a bit too emotionally involved for his own good; he and Draco needed to be on a more equal footing for him to feel safe enough to go forward.

 

His libido protested this, but he was resolved. He couldn't let Draco jerk him around like that, even unintentionally.

 

At that moment, Draco crowed over some particularly clever move he had made, and Harry smiled over at him. He really was something when he wasn't being nasty; his open smile was miles more attractive than his usual smirk. Ginny was smiling back, and Harry felt an annoying pang of jealousy. He knew Draco dated girls, and Ginny was awfully attractive herself – and came with far less baggage than Harry did when it came to romance, especially romance with Draco. He knew Ginny was firmly in love with her own Slytherin, but maybe Draco would realize how much better he could do than Harry…?

 

_For God's sake, brain, shut up!_

 

Just then Draco looked over at Harry and winked with a little smile, and Harry could feel himself blush. Slowing down was going to be mighty difficult, he realised ruefully as he dozed off.

 

_Draco_

 

When supper time came along, Harry was sleeping so soundly that Draco decreed that they should leave him be and save him some food for later. Somewhat to his surprise, Harry's friends agreed with him, so they sneaked out of the library and left Harry slumbering on the couch.

 

"Where's Harry?" asked Mrs Weasley, as soon as it was clear he wasn't with the group.

 

"Asleep in the library," said Draco, as Professor Snape followed Dumbledore into the kitchen. Draco locked eyes with him. "Apparently _Harry_ had a difficult morning."

 

Professor Snape's expression did not change in the slightest. Disgruntled, Draco took his own seat as everyone finished gathering and supper started.

 

"It is a shame," Professor Dumbledore remarked. "But we must find a way to dispel anything that might be blocking his power."

 

_'Might?'_ "Is it wise to do that before –" Draco began, and was silenced by a particularly fierce look from under Dumbledore's eyebrows. _Oh, that's right; Harry's friends weren't to be told of Harry's real power or of the drain on it._ Pffft.

 

"Harry needs every advantage he can get," sighed Lupin.

 

"Harry has a block on his power? Really?" Granger asked. "Why, do you suppose?"

 

"How long has he had it?" Ron put in, almost before she stopped speaking. "It can't have been very long, we'd have noticed."

 

"Not necessarily," Draco murmured. _Ha_ , he thought. _Get out of this one, old man!_

 

"We're not sure," Dumbledore said smoothly. "We're working on the problem. If there is a block, we'll help him remove it."

 

'If' _there is a block. Ha! I always knew he was a liar._

 

"Is this what you wouldn't let Harry tell us before?" Ginny asked.

 

"In part," said Dumbledore. "I'm sorry, children, but we must be extra careful when it comes to information about Harry, especially anything to do with his power."

 

Draco saw every person his age at the table bristle at that 'children,' and smirked. Ginny slid him a speculative glance, and he gave her a minute nod.

 

"So," Ginny said brightly, "since we're talking about Harry and he conveniently isn't here, what about his birthday? What are we going to do about it?"

 

"When's his birthday?" Draco asked, interested. "I've apparently lost track of the days in here."

 

"Day after tomorrow," said Ron, for once not with his mouth full. "We definitely should have a party. I don't think he's ever had one."

 

"I'll be happy to take care of refreshments," said Mrs Weasley.

 

"Triple chocolate cake," said Ginny, nodding.

 

"Oh, definitely," said Granger with a look of remembered bliss. She'd spent a lot more time staying with the Weasleys than Harry had, Draco realised.

 

"Clearly we'll have to go shopping," he announced, already planning possible gifts for the most wardrobe-challenged person he'd ever met.

 

"It isn't safe," said Dumbledore.

 

"We can't keep him cooped up here all summer – none of them," said Lupin. "It isn't good for them. I believe Miss Weasley had an excellent suggestion; that we use Glamour Charms on the kids so they can go out safely."

 

"Preposterous," Professor Snape began, but Dumbledore looked thoughtful.

 

"That's not a bad idea," he said. "It would give everyone a chance to get a change of scenery. There is also that matter of Sirius Black's will; the goblins have been requesting a meeting with Harry for some time. Remus, you'll need to be there as well."

 

Lupin nodded, looking haunted.

 

"Excellent," said Draco. "Shall we go tomorrow or the next day, then?"  _Shopping!_  His mind crowed. _Oh, wait…money._ He certainly didn't have access to his usual vault anymore; he couldn't imagine his father allowing it, even though he was in Azkaban and should have no say in anything. Draco had never been even slightly short of funds before. It was a chill and nasty feeling.

 

"We'll go tomorrow," said Mrs Weasley. "It will give Harry a little more time to recuperate from whatever you were doing this morning. I do think you were a bit too hard on him, Professor Dumbledore."

 

"War waits for no man," said Professor Snape coldly. "There's no excuse for this foolish self-sabotage."

 

Draco happened to disagree with that, having gotten that glimpse of Harry's life in Muggle-land, but before he could say so Granger leaped in with a question about the Glamour Charms they were going to use, and the moment was lost. Draco went back to worrying about his financial situation instead. He did have some gold in various pockets in his wardrobes, he was sure, but hardly enough to do the kind of shopping he considered necessary.

 

How did Weasleys stand it, he wondered. Ginny didn't seem worried at all, but it must be torture to see things you wanted and not be able to flick a finger and have them be yours.

 

Maybe he could do a duplicating charm on the gold he did have?

 

Except that would get him nailed by the Ministry for underage magic use, since the house wasn't shielded and he wasn't stupid enough to think his wand didn't have even more monitoring spells than average. And even before the Ministry could get to him, the goblins would unwind his entrails for messing with money like that. Nobody in the Wizarding world ever attempted to counterfeit money; the goblins' disapproval of that was lethally firm.

 

After supper Ginny beat Draco to the plate Mrs Weasley had set aside for Harry, and their group went back to the library, where Harry was still asleep. Ginny put the plate on the coffee table and went off to her room with Granger, presumably to plot about Harry's birthday.

 

"So, Weasley," said Draco gamely, "how about a game of chess?"  He needed to distract himself from these depressing thoughts about money and hope that some sort of workable idea floated into his brain.

 

"You're on," said Ron, and they began. When playing an opponent up to his weight, Ron's true brilliance at chess shone through, and Draco was soon completely absorbed in the game. He lost eventually, but even he felt that it was to a worthy opponent. He also had the uncomfortable feeling that Ginny had just been toying with him during their match.

 

Harry started to stir as Draco tipped over his king, and he gladly abandoned the chessboard to go over to him, smiling at him as he opened his eyes.

 

"Hi," said Harry, smiling back with a slightly puzzled air. "Is it supper time, then?"

 

"Way past," said Ron, starting the tedious task of persuading the chess pieces to go back into their box.

 

"We brought you some food," said Draco, indicating the plate.

 

"Thanks," said Harry, swinging his feet to the floor and running his hands through his hair, resulting in a look that suggested he'd recently experienced a lightning strike to the head. "I'm starving."

 

"So, Dumbledore sort of brought up some block you might have on your power," said Ron in a casual tone, coming over to sit next to Harry as he began to eat. "What's up with that?"

 

"Um – " Harry paused to chew and swallow. "What all did he say?"

 

"Just that you might have a block and were working on it with them. So what's going on?"

 

"Well, there is a block. Draco thinks I did it to myself," said Harry with remarkable aplomb. Ron turned an angry gaze on Draco, but it melted as Harry went on. "And he could be right. I didn't know there was a block until he pointed it out, but he thinks it's because I'm nervous about the consequences of doing magic when I'm not supposed to."

 

"Not an unreasonable fear, considering," said Draco, remembering Harry's tale of being pulled before the Wizengamot for casting a Patronus Charm.

 

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "So how long have you had it, then?"

 

"A long time," said Draco, when Harry cast his eyes down to his plate. "I wasn't kidding about that cracking mountains thing."

 

Ron turned a wide-eyed look on Harry, who was busy glaring at Draco.

 

"What?" said Draco. "He's your best friend, isn't he?"

 

"Yeah," said Harry, "but Dumbledore told me not to tell anyone…"

 

"I won't tell," said Ron. "So – uh – do you have this block the whole time? Even during school?"

 

Harry sighed. "Yeah. I've always made it a point not to stand out at school, ever since I was little and the Dursleys didn't like me getting better marks than Dudley. I guess my subconscious sort of took over the job and put this block on me, and now I can't get rid of it."  He sighed again.

 

Draco found himself exchanging an exasperated look with Ron. "You stand out at school, Harry," he said patiently.

 

"Not because of my marks, though," said Harry with a fleeting grin.

 

"Whatever. We'll come back to this. Finish your dinner and don't worry about it right now," said Draco. "Think about this instead – what do you want for your birthday?"

 

"What?" Harry dropped a forkful of salad back onto his plate.

 

"What do you want for your birthday? We're all Glamouring up and going to Diagon tomorrow, and I still need to get you a birthday present."

 

Both Harry and Ron looked at him as though he'd lost his mind. "Why would you need to get me a birthday present?" Harry wondered.

 

Draco shifted a bit uncomfortably. "Well, even if I didn't – sort of – like you – you're my host. I can't ignore your birthday."

 

"You like me?" Harry asked.

 

"If this conversation is going where I think it's going, I'm out of here," said Ron, jumping to his feet.

 

"Relax, I'm not professing undying love," said Draco dryly. "But I do enjoy your company. Is that so strange?"

 

"Kind of, yeah," said Harry dazedly.

 

"Well, I do," said Draco, rather hurt by this. Did Harry think he snogged people he didn't like, for Merlin's sake?

 

Did _Harry_ snog people he didn't like? Did Harry not like Draco as much as he had thought?

 

"Okay," said Harry. "Okay." He smiled a little. "I have no idea what to ask for. If you want to get me a present, just pick something out."

 

"I do have excellent taste," said Draco, not at all modestly. "All right, Harry. By the way, Dumbledore said you would have to go hear Sirius Black's will read. I thought all that was already done; you have the house."

 

All the guilt and sorrow that Draco remembered feeling when he was in Harry's head and Sirius Black's name was mentioned now showed on Harry's face. "I guess they just need to have everything squared away," he said dully.

 

"Yeah, mate, it'll be okay," said Ron, with an irritated look at Draco.

 

"Well, you're definitely wearing some of my clothes tomorrow," said Draco. "You'll want to look your best if you're seeing the goblins about money."

 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Your clothes won't fit me, Draco."

 

"Your clothes don't fit you, either," Draco retorted. "Besides, I know a handy little charm for that, which you will be able to do with your handy unmonitored wand."

 

Harry brightened at that, and so did Ron. "That would be a good charm to know," said Ron, who was often to be seen in too-short clothing.

 

"I'll teach you both," said Draco magnanimously. "Why don't we go pick out some clothes now?" He led Harry and Ron upstairs to his new room.

 

In short order, and after only one snarky comment from Ron about the extent of his wardrobe, Draco had outfitted Harry with a pair of khaki trousers and a sage green button down shirt. He figured he'd save the Slytherin T shirt for a day at home.

 

"Now, the charm is Accommodo. You move your wand like this." He swung his wand in a wiggling motion over Harry's body as he stood there in the too-large clothes. Harry repeated the words and the motion, frowning in concentration. Instantly, the clothes fitted themselves to Harry as if they'd been tailored for him.

 

"Wicked!" approved Ron.

 

"Yeah!" Harry agreed.

 

"Try it on my clothes," Ron urged, indicating the inch of ankle that showed at the frayed hem of his jeans.

 

Harry waved his wand again and cried "Accommodo!"  The jeans lengthened and shaped themselves to Ron's body, even smartening up some of the frayed hems.

 

"Not bad, Weasley," said Draco.

 

"Great charm," said Ron, grinning. "How long does it last?"

 

"Until you take it off. It can be cast up to three times on a single garment, but you have to be careful after that because the fabric starts breaking down," said Draco.

 

"You look great, mate," Ron said to Harry.

 

"Of course he does," said Draco. "Now we just need to do something about that hair…"

 

"Good luck," said Harry.

 

"If anyone can calm your hair down, it's Malfoy," said Ron. When Draco looked at him in surprise, he added, "He's had so much practise on his own."

 

"Prat," said Draco. "Okay, Harry, change back into your own clothes and we'll see about your hair."

 

But forty-five minutes later even Draco Malfoy admitted defeat. Harry's hair would not be tamed. The best he managed was a sort of controlled chaos, so that it looked slightly more styled than messy, but Harry and Ron laughed anyway.

 

"Shut up," said Draco. "I think your hair is cursed, Harry. I've never failed before."

 

"Well, I do have this whacking great curse scar on my head," said Harry.

 

"The evil of You-Know-Who knows no limits," said Ron solemnly, and all three boys cracked up.


	6. Chapter 6

_Harry_

_"Why didn't you stop her?" Sirius asked, hollow eyed._

_"I couldn't!  I – I just saw her curse you –"_

_"Why didn't you grab me?  Or even come after me?"_

_"Remus had me – I couldn't follow –"_

_"Why didn't you curse her?"_

_"I didn't have enough hate, she said…"_

_"Why not?  Didn't I mean anything to you?  She's my murderer!"_

_"I don't know!  I don't know!"_

_"I was your godfather…"_

_"SIRIUS!"  Harry reached out desperately for Sirius, but his godfather just shook his head sadly and turned away, fading into nothingness._

 

Harry jerked awake. The window was just beginning to go grey with morning light, and Ron, fortunately, was still snoring away in the other bed.

 

Harry lay there, stubbornly ignoring the burn in his eyes and the wetness on his cheeks. He knew better than this, didn't he? He couldn't have done anything to save Sirius. Everyone told him so. He hadn't had the power…

 

Story of his life right now, really.

 

A small noise brought him out of his self-recrimination, and he watched as the door eased open and Draco's pale head slipped through. Harry slitted his eyes almost closed and watched as Draco cased the room and then slunk in, heading directly for Harry's bed.

 

As Draco's lips descended on his, Harry argued briefly with himself. He had determined to back off, that was true, but Draco's kisses were _so_ nice…and he was _so_ depressed this morning…surely it wouldn't hurt anything to keep up the morning tradition…

 

As Draco started to draw away, Harry let his eyes flutter open, and curved a hand around the back of Draco's head to hold him there as Harry kissed him back.

 

"Mmmm," hummed Draco into Harry's mouth, and the kiss swiftly intensified, until Harry found himself pulling insistently at the other boy, trying to pull him into the bed with him. _No_ , his mind said faintly, drowned out by his much louder hormones chorusing _Oh, yes!_  

 

Draco started to climb on, but Ron said, "For Merlin's sake, you two!  I'm still here, you know!"

 

Draco pulled away and returned his one foot to the floor as Harry felt his cheeks burn. "But you were asleep," he said. "So you didn't count."

 

"Well, I'm awake now," said Ron crossly. "Stop it, before my eyes burn out entirely."

 

"You could always just shut them," Draco suggested, but Harry's mind was now back in control of his hormones, and he pushed Draco away and clambered out of bed.

 

"No," he said. "I need a shower anyway. Sorry, Ron."

 

Draco sneered at Ron and stomped out the door.

 

"Just out of curiosity," said Ron pensively, "why didn't you move into Malfoy's new room with him?"

 

"I just didn't think it would be a good idea," said Harry. "He's only been on our side for a week and a half, after all."  He mustered a grin at Ron. "Tired of me?" he asked, then cursed himself when it came out a little too earnest.

 

"'Course not, mate!" said Ron, looking genuinely surprised. "I just – sort of thought you were getting to want to be with him, that's all."

 

Harry shrugged. "Not to the point of moving in with him." He collected his toiletries and headed out to the shower. And if he had himself a very satisfying wank reliving that wake-up kiss, he told himself it didn't affect his resolution at all.

 

After his shower, he dressed carefully in Draco's re-tailored clothes and spent rather a long time trying to get his hair to look at least approximately the way Draco had made it look last night. He didn't succeed, but then he happily remembered he'd be wearing a Glamour charm, so maybe it wouldn't matter much anyway. Much cheered by this, he went downstairs to breakfast, finding that the girls and the teachers were there ahead of him. Ron came in just after he did.

 

"Morning, everyone," Harry said, and immediately dug into his breakfast.

 

"So, Harry, have you thought about what you want for your birthday?" Hermione asked. He turned a startled gaze on her. "I'm excited; it's the first time we've been able to be together for your birthday!"

 

He swallowed a mouthful of bacon sandwich. "Uh, yeah," he said. "I mean, no, I haven't thought about it." He smiled at her. "It just won't be my birthday if you don't give me a book," he teased, and Hermione blushed.

 

"How about a lovely new copy of _Hogwarts: A History?_ " she retorted.

 

"I was thinking an earring or something," said Ginny in a bland tone, with a quick sideways glance at her mother.

 

Harry grinned enthusiastically, more than willing to play along with the glint of mischief in Ginny's eye. Also, he genuinely liked the idea. "What a great idea!  I've always liked Bill's earring. Maybe I'll grow my hair, too…might keep it under control…"

 

As Mrs Weasley stopped sputtering and got a good breath to protest, Draco walked into the room. "Nothing will get your hair under control, Harry," he said, with a quick glare at the impassive Snape as he said the name. "I myself have verified this."

 

"Well, it stands to reason if it was longer, it'd be heavier," said Ron, when he had swallowed. Harry gave him a speculative glance. "That would have to make it lie flat, wouldn't it?"

 

"With anyone else," said Draco, sitting down and serving himself some eggs. "With Harry's hair, I can make no promises."

 

"It's unwise to have long hair when one duels frequently," said Snape flatly. "And Hogwarts doesn't allow boys to wear visible earrings, even if those were practical for a dueller, either."

 

A damp silence descended on the table. Harry stared resentfully at the greasy hair brushing Snape's shoulders until Ron elbowed him, fortunately before Snape noticed. Hopefully.

 

"Well, we're leaving right after breakfast," said Mrs Weasley, breaking the thickening bubble of uncomfortable silence. "Harry, Remus will be with you for the trip, even though you'll both be Glamoured. Albus says you have an appointment at Gringotts at ten; you'll go shopping afterward and get you some proper clothes."

 

"We'll be getting him proper clothes," said Ginny and Hermione in very firm voices.

 

"Subject, of course, to my approval," said Draco, as though this should be obvious.

 

Harry scowled. "I don't get a say in my own clothes?"

 

"Of course not," said Draco. "I mean, really, Harry, look how you've done on your own so far."

 

"My clothes are all hand-me-downs!" It was the first time he hadn't cringed with embarrassment at saying that out loud; he was too aggravated.

 

"Not that Gryffindor T shirt. Or those questionable brown trousers you wore last Monday," said Draco. "No, Harry. Leave it to me."

 

"He'll end up looking like a ponce!" Ron spluttered.

 

"Ron!" said his mother, as Draco turned up his nose.

 

"No, he won't," said Ginny. "I think we can work together to find something you're happy with, Harry. Trust us?"  She batted her eyelashes at him.

 

He laughed reluctantly. "I guess so," he said.

 

"Brilliant!" said Ginny. "So, after your appointment we'll get you some clothes and whatever else you need."

 

"And tomorrow it's back to work," said Snape.

 

"Tomorrow is Harry's birthday," said Remus firmly. "The day after tomorrow, it's back to work."

 

"I can assure you the Dark Lord cares nothing for birthdays," sneered Snape. "Potter needs all the practise he can get, especially if he is to – realise his full potential – in time to do any good."

 

"The Dark Lord is a joyless terrorising git," said Ron, once again after he had swallowed his mouthful of food. Everyone looked at him in surprise. "We care about Harry, and he is going to get his birthday."

 

"Exactly right, Ron," said Mr Weasley, beaming. He had been so quiet up to then that everyone jumped. "Well said." Ron flushed with pride.

 

Harry smiled at them all. "Thanks, guys." He turned to Snape. "I think the break will do me good," he said earnestly. Snape sneered at him but did not reply, and Harry shrugged, once again applying himself to his bacon sandwich.

 

After breakfast Mr Weasley went off to work and Snape disappeared into his lab. Shortly thereafter Professor Dumbledore arrived with Tonks, who was tall and brunette today. They proceeded to get everyone ready to go.

 

The Glamour Charms were fun, mostly because Tonks let them have a say in how they looked. She obligingly gave Hermione sleek straight blonde hair and Ginny short chestnut curls. She let Draco look as chic and groomed as he always did, even with his new dark colouring.

 

She gave Harry red hair and hazel eyes. Of course, the biggest difference was made when she dabbed a clear potion on his scar and it faded from view.

 

"That should last all day, except when you're in the bank," she told him.

 

"Why not in the bank?"

 

"Security measures," said Tonks. "Disguising spells and potions are nullified within the walls of Gringotts. They go back into effect once you leave, don't worry. I'll touch up the potion when we meet after your appointment, if it needs it. If you feel your forehead tingling after that, let me know right away and I'll reapply the whole dose, okay?"

 

"Okay. Am I done?"

 

"What else can I do?"

 

"Can you give me perfect abs?" he asked, grinning.

 

She grinned back. "You're a Quidditch player; you already have perfect abs. You just need to dress to show them off. Now come on before I turn you purple."

 

"Nice, Harry," said Ginny, looking him up and down.

 

"Thanks. You too. Are we ready?" Harry asked.

 

"Just let me finish with Remus," Tonks called from the other side of the room, where she had retreated to disguise the last Marauder.

 

Moments later Remus strolled up to them, sporting long wheat-coloured hair and an eye patch with a twisted scar coming out the bottom of it. He was standing straighter, which made him look much taller, and moving with an aggressive stride that he never used normally. "Ready?" he asked, smiling. The smile now had a rakish tilt that reminded Harry suddenly of Sirius in Snape's Pensieve.

 

"Ready," he said, swallowing, and they all headed for the fireplace, the plan being to Floo to the Leaky Cauldron and go into the Alley from there.

 

"Harry and I and Remus will go first," said Professor Dumbledore, who had been off to one side with Draco, conversing quietly, "so that we can go straight on to Gringotts. The rest of you, stay with Tonks. We'll meet you at the ice cream parlour after Harry's appointment."

 

Everyone agreed, and Hermione squeezed Harry's hand. At last he was in the Leaky Cauldron, brushing soot off himself and watching as Draco Flooed through and landed perfectly. A second later Tonks Flooed in and tripped over Draco, knocking him to the floor, so Harry got to leave the pub laughing.

 

When they got to Gringotts, Harry and his two escorts were taken to a plush office on an upper floor, where a very old goblin presided over a massive desk. There was a wizard there as well, who stepped forward when Harry entered the office, and held out his hand.

 

"You must be Harry Potter," he said. "It's an honour to meet you. My name's Samuel Mace, partner in Hyde, Mace, and Tolliver. We're the solicitors to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black." His lips twisted humorously on the last words.

 

"Nice to meet you," said Harry, already a little hoarse. His stomach was churning with nervousness and sorrow.

 

Mr Mace shook Remus's and Professor Dumbledore's hands as well. The goblin then cleared its throat and said, "I am Rasnar, head of Inheritances. Please be seated, and we will hear the will of Sirius Black."

 

Harry's knees felt weak; he was glad to sink into a chair.

 

Mr Mace produced a sheaf of parchments and cleared his throat. "Ahem. This will was made in September, 1980, and is valid as it was made before Sirius Black's incarceration in Azkaban Prison. As the Spells of Inheritance have confirmed his death, we are gathered here to hear the wishes of Sirius Black, head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. _Toujours Pur._

 

When he started to read aloud, it was with Sirius's voice, and Harry and Remus both flinched. "I, Sirius Black, being of sound mind, body, and power, do hereby state my wishes as to the disposal of my possessions after my death.

 

"To my friend Remus Lupin, I leave the maximum amount permitted for werewolves at the time of the will reading – that's one hundred thousand Galleons," Mace added in his own voice. Remus blinked. "I leave also the house in Wales known as the Tower, and all its contents. Enjoy the books, Moony."

 

Remus dropped his head into his hands, and his shoulders shook. Professor Dumbledore patted his shoulder and offered him an enormous blue handkerchief, with which he wiped at his eyes before sitting up straight and smiling shakily.

 

"All right?" asked Mace. Remus nodded, and the solicitor continued.

 

"To my friend Peter Pettigrew –"

 

"What!" Harry exclaimed, and Mace looked at him over the tops of the parchments.

 

"May I continue, Mr Potter?"

 

"Yes, sorry," Harry muttered, sinking down in his chair, gut churning even more with the addition of outrage to the list of emotions.

 

"– Peter Pettigrew, I leave the mahogany wardrobe in the blue guest room of Black Manor, and all its contents. Get into those leather pants, Wormtail; it'll do wonders for your social life."

 

Harry's mind's eye burned, and he had to smother an inappropriate fit of laughter. He saw Remus wince.

 

"I leave also the sum of fifty thousand Galleons. Don't spend 'em all in one place.

 

"To my friends James and Lily Potter, I leave the house known as The Lakeside Cottage, and the sum of one hundred thousand Galleons. To James, I leave my copy of the Marauder's Handbook, to be passed on to Little Prongs when the time is right. To Lily, I leave the Black Emeralds – they'll definitely look better on you than on Cissy.

 

"To Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I leave in trust the sum of one million Galleons. I advise the purchase of new brooms, but the rest of the money is to be used to better the school on the authority of Albus Dumbledore, or the current Headmaster."

 

Professor Dumbledore bowed his head.

 

"Finally, I leave all other possessions, monies, properties, and assets of all kinds, including Headship of the House of Black, less the House bequests belonging to Narcissa Black Malfoy and Bellatrix Black Lestrange, to Harry James Potter, my godson. If he is underage at the time of inheritance, James and Lily shall be trustees; if, Merlin forbid, anything has happened to them, Remus Lupin shall be trustee until Harry is of age. I've made arrangements with the Wizengamot to make that legal, despite his lycanthropy. If anything has happened to Remus, Albus Dumbledore shall be trustee.

 

"It is my wish that upon his sixteenth birthday, vault #75 and all the interest on its contents become available for Harry's use."

 

There was a short silence. Harry had no idea what to say; his emotions had overloaded, and he was numb.

 

"Here is a full account of the estate of which you are trustee, Mr. Lupin," said Mr Mace, handing Remus some of his parchments. "The bequests originally intended for James and Lily Potter have reverted to Harry James Potter; that's noted on page six." Remus took the parchments and flipped through them; his eyes widened. Harry peered at them and saw many lists, and a lot of numbers containing a lot of zeros.

 

Turned out he wasn't numb after all. There was still room for shock in there.

 

"The bottom line is, the value of the estate currently stands at two hundred ninety-five million Galleons, sixteen Sickles, six Knuts," said Mr Mace. Harry took a minute to put real effort into keeping his jaw from dropping.

 

"It's my understanding that your birthday is tomorrow, Mr Potter," said Mr Mace, just as if everything about this situation was perfectly normal. Harry nodded dumbly. Headship of the House of Black! What did that even mean? Another thing he'd no idea how to do…

 

"We will provide you with a key to vault #75 before you leave, then," said Rasnar, "and you may explore the contents. They consist of cash, some stocks, and some artefacts."

 

Harry nodded again, the power of speech still eluding him. In the background, he was aware of Professor Dumbledore and Remus receiving vault keys and more parchments. Finally, Mr Mace handed Harry some parchments to sign and a vault key, which he shoved in his pocket.

 

"This concludes the last will and testament of Sirius Black," said Mr Mace formally. Then his voice returned to normal. "Mr Potter, let me know if you need anything, all right? I'm the day-to-day solicitor for the House of Black."

 

"A – all right," said Harry, clearing his throat. "Thank you."

 

Mr Mace shook his hand again, and shortly Harry found himself riding in one of the goblin carts to a vault far, far down in the very lowest levels of the bank.

 

"Vault #75," said the goblin who had steered the cart, and Remus gave Harry a little encouraging shove (Dumbledore had remained in the lobby of the bank). Harry approached the door, which had the Black coat of arms on it, and the goblin showed him how to use his key. The door swung open.

 

When Harry had first seen his own vault, it had contained more money than he had ever seen in his life. This vault seemed to be about twice the size, and at least three times the money. There were also books, a broomstick, robes, and a large empty birdcage, that he could see from the doorway. There was a shelf containing a chest with file labels on the drawers to one side.

 

Harry took a few tentative steps into the vault, and felt Remus come up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, my God, Remus," he said faintly.

 

The hand tightened. "This is Padfoot's school vault," Remus said after clearing his throat. "Look, there's his Beater's bat and his Quidditch robes – must be from fourth year."

 

All of a sudden there was a huge lump in Harry's throat, and his eyes filled. "I – I can't do this now," he choked, turning blindly to Remus. Remus's arms came around him at once, and Remus patted his back and remained silent until Harry wrestled himself back under control.

 

"It's all right," he said then, releasing Harry. "We can go. Do you need to stop by your original vault?"

 

Harry nodded, and they got back into the cart and rode to Harry's vault, where he mechanically scooped Galleons into a pouch, though he no longer remotely felt like shopping. Then they went back up to the lobby, collected Professor Dumbledore, and made their way to Florean Fortescue's to meet Harry's friends.

 

He wondered what he was going to say to them.

 

_  
_

_Draco_

 

Draco picked himself up and watched Harry leave the pub. On the one hand, Harry had a great laugh (and wasn't Draco going sappy?). On the other hand, Harry was laughing at Draco, which was never okay. Draco absently offered a hand to Tonks.

 

"Sorry about that," she said, getting to her feet. "All right, you lot, where to first?"

 

"Birthday presents first," said Ginny firmly.

 

"Too right," said Granger. "Ha – he won't be in any mood to shop by the time we see him again. We have to have our attention free to coax him along."

 

"Why won't he be in a mood to shop?" Ron asked.

 

Granger rolled her eyes. "He'll have spent all morning hearing about his godfather and how he's _dead_ ," she said. "Honestly!"

 

"Oh."

 

"Um – since we can't use names…" Draco mentioned, drawing closer in so his voice wouldn't carry.

 

"Middle names," said Granger decisively. "Mine's Jane." 

 

_What a poky Muggle name,_ Draco thought.

 

"Molly," said Ginny.

 

"Bilius," said Ron, making a face.

 

Draco smirked. "Bill it is," he said, and Ron nodded, looking relieved, probably that Draco hadn't teased any more than that. Little did he know that Draco was just choosing his venue.

 

"Arethusa," said Tonks, making Ron's face momentarily. The others laughed as she let the freckles fade again.

 

"How about Sue?" said Granger. They all turned and looked at Draco.

 

"My middle names are Lucius Abraxas Orion," said Draco, deadpan.

 

"We obviously can't use the first two. We'll call you Ryan," said Ginny, after a moment of silence. Draco nodded.

 

"What is it with purebloods and names?" Granger wondered.

 

"It's a question of tradition, something Mu – ggleborns are trampling all over," Draco snarled. "Why do you think –?"

 

"Now is definitely not the time," said Tonks, rapping Draco's left arm sharply with her wand. Granger looked taken aback.

 

"I didn't mean anything," she murmured to Ginny as the group of them headed for the back door of the pub. "It just seems that the more aristocratic you are, the fancier your name."

 

"Ryan's right, it is a tradition thing," said Ginny. "His problem is he had no siblings to spread the names around on. Judging by the way they loaded them all on him, his parents never planned to have more than one child."

 

"Explains a lot," said Granger, giggling softly. "He never had to share growing up."

 

Neither did Granger, Draco sulked to himself, stomping ahead. His good mood at the prospect of shopping was considerably dimmed.

 

"Hold up," said Tonks. "We need to stick together. Where do you want to go first?"

 

"I need to go to Flourish & Blotts," said Granger. The others groaned. "He expects a book!" She grinned evilly. "I can still surprise him, though…"

 

"Okay, we'll do that first," said Tonks. "Uh – Bill?  Ryan?"

 

"Quality Quidditch Supplies," said Ron, feeling in his pocket.

 

"Not sure yet," said Draco loftily. "I have some ideas, but something else may strike me." He rolled his eyes at Ron's grin.

 

"Molly?"

 

"I still want to get him an earring," Ginny fretted.

 

"He can't wear it at school," Granger reminded her.

 

"I know, it's so annoying. I guess I'll just see. Maybe a T shirt or something," Ginny decided.

 

They set off for the bookstore. Draco fingered the gold in his pocket; Dumbledore had taken him aside while they were putting on Glamour charms and given him ten Galleons. Barely pocket change, by Draco's standards, but money was never to be sneered at. Still, what could he get Harry for ten Galleons?  Perhaps this was a good reason to observe the shopping habits of Weasleys.

 

Granger wouldn't let the boys see the book she picked out for Harry. Ginny and Tonks laughed themselves silly over her choice, though. Granger had the store gift-wrap it before they left. Draco browsed around the store and considered getting Harry a nasty little book much famed in the Slytherin boys' dorm. Tonks bought a book on Defence spells.

 

They then proceeded to Quality Quidditch Supplies, where Ron purchased some oil for Harry's Quidditch gloves. Draco entertained a brief wistful vision of pouring all the oil onto Harry's gloves at once, so the Snitch would just slip out of his grasp. Then he scoffed to himself; Harry would win anyway. He always did.

 

Draco put away his customary blend of envy and admiration, and browsed the Seekers' section for a while. He pondered a professional-grade practise Snitch (too expensive, to his fury), but he didn't want to insult Harry with something too common, like a tin of broom polish (within his budget, but undistinguished in every way. It wasn't even the best quality brand available). He looked longingly at the Firebolt II in the window – not long ago, he could have bought one for Harry and one for himself without batting an eye.

 

He surely wasn't giving Harry a book of Seeker strategies – they'd had it at F&B's, too, and Draco had rejected the idea then. This was the wrong place for him to shop for Harry, at least with this little money.

 

He kept his frustration out of his face and indicated he was ready to leave. Ginny left the T shirt she was contemplating – black, with a Snitch zooming all over it – and joined him at the door.

 

"No ideas yet?" she asked.

 

"Ideas, yes. But the right thing hasn't appeared yet," said Draco.

 

She nodded. "I almost got the T shirt. We may come back for it, but it isn't quite the thing."

 

_Perhaps I'll take him to a real salon to have his hair worked on_ , Draco mused. _Or – Aha!_

 

"Thought of something?" Ginny enquired, as Tonks extracted Ron from the back of the shop and they all headed out.

 

"Maybe," said Draco noncommittally. "But I think he'll like it."

 

They wandered in and out of the shops. Ginny seriously debated with Draco getting a snake for Harry, but they decided it would be a bad idea, since again he couldn't have it at school. Granger and Ron bought owl treats and flirt/bickered in the background.

 

Ginny, on Draco's advice – he was getting to enjoy her company more and more – bought Harry a lock for his trunk with a variety of spells on it. As she was paying for it, some of the Slytherin Quidditch team wandered into the shop.

 

"This'll keep that little toerag out of my gear," one of them – Harper – was saying to his friend.

 

"Too right," said his friend Urquhart.

 

Draco had a moment of confusion at not being recognised by two of his team-mates, before he remembered the Glamour charm.

 

The two Slytherins passed Ginny as she headed for Draco, and Urquhart gave her a very comprehensive once-over. She gave him a saucy smile, winked at Harper, and sauntered up to Draco. "Let's go," she said, smiling and linking her arm through his.

 

A little surprised, Draco held the door for her and followed her out.

 

She dropped his elbow when they were out on the street and headed toward Tonks, who had been waiting a little way away.

 

"What was that about?" Draco asked the top of her head, since she didn't seem to want to look at him. He never would have predicted that Ginny Weasley could be shy.

 

She shrugged. "Nothing," she said breezily, but her cheeks were pink.

 

Light dawned, followed swiftly by disbelief. "Don't tell me you're crushing on Urquhart!" Draco exclaimed.

 

"Ugh!  Of course not!" Ginny said, curling her lip. "He's a pig. His ex-girlfriend is my Herbology partner, and she's told me a lot of things."

 

Draco, who had often been subjected – along with everyone else – to the things Urquhart liked to announce to the entire common room, regained his faith in Ginny's intelligence. "Harper, then." He rubbed his hands together with triumph at solving the mystery. "Nice choice, Molly. He's even single."

 

Ginny's face had gone scarlet. "I know," she said. Then they re-joined the others, so Draco held his peace. For the moment.

 

"What did he do to you?" Ron demanded, scowling at Draco.

 

"Nothing," said Ginny, her blush slowly fading. "Everything's fine, Bill. Hadn't we better hurry? James must be almost done."

 

_Of course Harry's middle name would be James_ , Draco thought. Muggleborn mother, and his Pureblood father had probably planned on more children.

 

"I just got a message from the Professor," said Tonks. "It's time to go meet them. Let's go."

 

They headed off to the ice cream parlour. Draco was still thinking over his idea for Harry's birthday present – he wanted him to be impressed – but also gloating that he had cracked the mystery of who had dragged Ginny Weasley's attention from the Boy Who Lived. He never would have thought it of Harper, who was an alternate Chaser on the Slytherin team and seemed to keep to himself a lot.

 

Harry was extremely subdued when he and Lupin joined them, and allowed Granger to order him a root beer float without much change of expression. Dumbledore spent some time in conversation with Tonks and Lupin before vanishing off on errands of his own.

 

"Are you all right…James?" Granger asked him.

 

Harry started, and mouthed, James?  "I'm fine," he said aloud. "Just…missing him, you know?"

 

"Did you get everything straightened out?" Ron asked.

 

Harry snorted. "Yeah. Look, I really don't want to talk about it right now, okay?"

 

"Of course," said Ginny, slurping up some of her chocolate-mocha chip ice cream. "So, James, start thinking about what sort of clothes you want."

 

"Just clothes," said Harry, looking surprised. "Nothing fancy or anything." He slid Draco a sideways glance.

 

"You haven't even seen fancy," Draco said. "I know what you need to be wearing, don't worry."

 

"Nothing fancy," Harry reiterated, now looking nervous.

 

"I thought we were just going to Madame Malkin's," said Ron.

 

"Oh, Gladrags too, definitely," said Ginny.

 

"I know a place," Lupin volunteered with a funny half-smile.

 

"Ah, James," said Draco. "Could I have a word before we set off?"

 

"Sure," said Harry, and he and Draco moved to another table.

 

Draco, knowing that the others were listening as hard as they could and also trying to lip read, lowered his voice and dropped his head. The first thing he did was quickly acquaint Harry with their various aliases. Then he got down to business. "I thought, for your birthday, you might like a tattoo," he murmured.

 

Harry grinned a twisted grin. "A tattoo from Draco Malfoy?"

 

"Don't go there," Draco advised. "But yes. Or a piercing, maybe."

 

"Boys can't wear earrings at school," said Harry.

 

"Boys can't wear _visible_ earrings at school," Draco corrected with a smirk. Harry looked surprised, then thoughtful. "I was considering a piercing for myself this summer. What do you think?"

 

"I think I'm not letting a piercing needle anywhere near me below the neck," said Harry with a little shudder. "But you go right ahead. A tattoo – would be okay. I get to pick it out, right?"

 

"Of course," said Draco. "Ah – nothing too big, though," he cautioned, thinking of his ten Galleons.

 

"Can you even get tattoos in Diagon Alley?" Harry wondered.

 

"No," said Draco. "But Eccentric Alley has all kinds of things like that."

 

Harry's lips twitched. "Tonks and Remus have to come," he warned.

 

"It'll be fine," said Draco. "So. Tattoo?"

 

Harry shrugged, a reckless light in his eye. "Sure. Okay, then."

 

They re-joined the others. "We need to make a quick stop in Eccentric Alley," said Draco to Tonks.

 

She opened her mouth, but Lupin chimed in, "Good, that's where my clothing store is."

 

"What kind of store is this?" Ron asked.

 

"Padfoot liked it," said Lupin, and Granger's eyes got very big. Harry looked interested.

 

"Let's go, then," sighed Tonks, and they set off.

 

"I'm getting a tattoo," Harry remarked as they walked.

 

"Wicked!" Ron breathed.

 

Granger quirked a sardonic brow at Draco, then turned to Tonks. "Will that work, with the…" She gestured at Harry's Glamoured face.

 

"Yeah," said Tonks. "It's still his skin. The tattoo will show through the Glamour and still be there when it's taken off." She looked over at Harry. "How's your head, then?"

 

"It's fine," said Harry.

 

Ginny just grinned and said, "Good for you."

 

Lupin smiled too and said, "Any idea what you want to get?"

 

"Yeah," said Harry. "But I want it to be a surprise. Is that okay?"

 

"It's not the Gryffindor badge, is it?" Draco asked in foreboding.

 

"Good idea, Ryan, but no," said Harry, chortling at the look Draco knew was on his face.

 

"See that it isn't," Draco said severely. "A snake would be good."

 

"Um – no."

 

"Not a – bird of any kind!"

 

"You'll see," said Harry. "Settle down, Ryan. So did you guys have a good morning?"

 

They talked in general terms about their morning of shopping as they entered the Bohemian environs of Eccentric Alley. Draco smirked at Ginny, who squinted at him for a moment, but he kept his revelation to himself for the time being.

 

At last they arrived at a small tattoo shop that Remus knew and crowded inside. Harry and Draco zeroed in on the highly-illustrated wizard sitting behind the counter reading the _Daily Prophet_. "I want a tattoo," Harry said. "Please."

 

The wizard put down his paper and looked Harry up and down. "Do you, then? What do you want?"

 

Harry glanced at Draco, then leaned over and murmured in the wizard's ear.

 

"I can do that," the man said. "It'll be six Galleons. Just step in here."

 

"Wait here, will you, Ryan?" said Harry. "I want this to be a surprise for you too."

 

"Okay," said Draco, and joined the others browsing the art that lined the walls while Harry disappeared into the back room with the artist.

 

"Where did he go?" asked Tonks.

 

"To get his tattoo," said Draco. "Just back there." He indicated the door.

 

She nodded and drifted in that direction, hand casually on her wand.

 

"That's pretty," said Granger, indicating a colourful faerie.

 

"It's for boosting Glamour," said Ginny. "These are magical tattoos. That one's for bringing balance to your life," she added, pointing out a curly abstract design.

 

"Molly! Are you saying I have an unbalanced life?" Granger said, mock hurt.

 

"Not at all. I just have to send all your owls to the library," Ginny teased back.

 

Draco wandered away from them and examined a rack of piercing jewellery. Perhaps he had enough Galleons to get the piercing he wanted today as well. Not like he cared at all about disappointing his father with avant-garde behaviour now, right?  If Lucius would be scandalised, all the better!

 

Soon enough Harry came out of the back room. He looked completely unchanged, but obligingly unbuttoned his shirt far enough to show his friends the bandage on the back of his shoulder. Draco paid for the tattoo and enquired about his piercing. Finding he could indeed afford it, he went ahead and had the wizard pierce his tongue.

 

"I can't believe you did that," said Granger as they headed for Lupin's clothing shop.

 

"Why?" Draco asked, somewhat indistinctly. "It's my body. It's mine to modify as I please!"  Perhaps that last bit came out a bit too furiously; the others were giving him sad looks now. "Besides, it'll amplify my spells if I charm the ring," he added more calmly. The slight post-piercing lisp was almost gone already.

 

"Really?" Granger's eyes sparkled with interest. Draco soon found himself embroiled in a surprisingly in-depth and enjoyable discussion with her about metal magic and enhancing charms, which occupied them until they were actually in the clothing shop.

 

"I can see why Padfoot liked this place," said Harry, looking around. The shop was small and brightly lit. The clothing seemed more Muggle than Wizarding, at least at first glance.

 

"I like it," said Ginny. "We'll find some good things here. Come on, James."

 

Draco abandoned his discussion with Granger and threw himself into helping Harry shop.

 


	7. Chapter 7

_Harry_

 

"You're mad," Harry said, flopped out on his bed, surrounded by packages. "I'm never shopping with you again."

 

"Don't be such a wimp, Harry," said Draco, from where he was examining his new tongue ring in the mirror. "You can't tell me that wore you out."

 

"It wore all of us out," said Ron, also sprawled across his bed. "He's right, you are mad. Not even the girls shop like you do."

 

"You got lots of great stuff, right?" Draco retorted, turning from the mirror and indicating Harry's packages. "Shopping is an art. You have to do it right, or it's not worth it."

 

"I'd hate to see what you're like with a bigger budget," Ron muttered, not quite under his breath. Draco shot him a narrow-eyed look, but didn't reply, to Harry's relief. He was too tired to mediate an argument between those two, or even to listen to one.

 

"I guess I'd better put all this away," he said, sitting up reluctantly.

 

"Too bad you've no house-elves," said Draco. "Why don't you, anyway? Or hey, what about that one of my dad's that you freed? Didn't you say he serves you now?"

 

"Sort of," Harry mumbled. Hermione would scold him, but he was so tired…"Dobby!"

 

Dobby appeared with a pop. "Yes, Mr Harry Potter, sir? How can Dobby help?"

 

"Would you put all this stuff away in here, please?" Harry asked, indicating the many bags and boxes.

 

Dobby clapped his hands and hopped up and down. "Oh, yes, Mr Harry Potter, sir, Dobby is glad to be helping!" He leaped for the nearest bag, giving Draco a wide berth. Draco scowled, but didn't comment.

 

"Right! We'll just get out of your way," said Harry, standing hastily and making for the door with the other two boys. "Thanks, Dobby."

 

"You sure are polite to him," said Draco as they made their way downstairs.

 

"Why wouldn't I be?" Harry asked.

 

"He's just a house-elf. It's not like he's people," said Draco.

 

Harry stiffened. "There's no reason to be rude to him. He has feelings."

 

"I'm not saying you need to kick him downstairs – unless he's been bad – but you don't have to fawn all over him, either," said Draco.

 

 _And maybe that attitude is why he took so much care to stay out of your reach_ , Harry thought glumly. He exchanged a glance with Ron that showed they'd both had the same thought.

 

"I don't fawn all over him," Harry snapped aloud. "He fawns all over me; I wish he'd stop."

 

"Shh," said Ron, as they approached the library door. "Hermione's in there. Don't let her hear you two, or we'll be in for an all-night lecture."

 

Draco rolled his eyes and shrugged, and they entered the library. Hermione and Ginny had the latest _Witch Weekly_ open on the big table and were giggling over something in it.

 

They looked up when the boys came in. "Hey, Harry, did you know you're the Wizarding World's most eligible bachelor?" asked Hermione, grinning.

 

"What? I'm _sixteen_! Tomorrow! Tell me you're kidding," moaned Harry.

 

"Not at all," said Ginny, holding up the magazine to show a two-page photo of Harry, taken some time last year in the Great Hall. He was looking thoughtfully into the distance with a fork held halfway to his open mouth. Harry thought he looked like an utter prat.

 

"I look like an utter prat," he said disgustedly.

 

"I've seen you look worse," said Draco. "They could have caught you with your mouth full."

 

"Yeah, mate, count your blessings," said Ron, a bit sourly. Was he going to be a git about this?  It wasn't like it was Harry's fault.

 

"They have a big article about you and your exciting love life," said Ginny. "Were you aware that you dated Hermione all during fourth year until Viktor stole her from you?"

 

Ron scowled. Harry gave him an uneasy glance and said, "Must have missed it."

 

"You missed the red-hot quality of your dates with Cho, too, I bet," said Hermione, pointedly not looking at Ron.

 

"Red-hot?" Harry laughed incredulously.

 

"Well, she did kiss you, mate," said Ron with a sly grin.

 

Now Draco scowled.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. "She kissed me once. We had one date."

 

"Not according to _Witch Weekly,_ " Ginny advised him. "According to unnamed sources, Cho was always meeting you in out-of-the-way spots." She winked at Harry. "You sly dog. All that time we thought you two were in the Room Of Requirement with us."

 

"That's where you had your little duelling club, right?" Draco asked, looking happy to change the subject. He hadn't picked the most fortunate new one, though, Harry observed.

 

Even now, Ron was turning and looming menacingly in Draco's personal space. "That you helped Umbridge break up –" he snarled.

 

"Just doing my job, Weasley," Draco drawled, buffing his nails on his shirt and examining them.

 

"That's no excuse," Ron spat. "You harassed us – harassed everybody – all year."

 

"It may have escaped your attention, but you were breaking school rules left and right," Draco retorted, glaring at Ron. "You should have lost your prefecture, if not been expelled."

 

"We were doing what we had to do – that woman almost put Cruciatus on Harry once she got hold of him –" Ron's face reddened and his voice rose to a shout.

 

Draco took a step back with a horrified expression. "Cruciatus? You can't be serious –"

 

"Can't I?"

 

"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!!" Harry roared. Everyone looked at him in surprise. He went on, "It's over. Draco, you did more damage than you think, it's true. Ron, we were breaking rules. We're not going to spend time agonising over it; Umbridge was evil and we had to fight back, but she's gone now. I AM SICK OF YOU TWO FIGHTING! I'm tired and I am in no mood, got it?"

 

"Got it," said Draco in a stunned tone. Ron merely nodded, looking sulky.

 

"And on another note," said Ginny brightly, after a little silence while they all looked uneasily at each other, "when can we see your tattoo, Harry?"

 

"I can take the bandage off after supper," said Harry, moving his shoulder. The tattoo didn't even sting anymore; three cheers for Wizarding body art!

 

"Have you decided what charm to use on your tongue ring?" Hermione asked Draco, rather stiffly, but she was making the effort.

 

"Yes," said Draco, also stiffly, as he sat down in one of the library armchairs and curled his feet under him. "Of course, I can't do it until school starts again, but I'll have it ready."

 

Harry retired to the couch, more than glad to flop out again. Draco really did shop like a madman, especially aided and abetted by Ginny, Hermione, and Tonks. Harry and Ron had been swept along as if by a tsunami. The scene just now hadn't done his exhaustion any favours, either. "I can probably do the charm for you," he heard himself offering, nevertheless.

 

Draco looked surprised. Well, Harry had just been shouting about what a git Draco had been. Ron scowled again.

 

"I may take you up on that," Draco said slowly. "Thanks, Harry."

 

"Mmh," said Harry, eyes drifting closed. He heard Ginny giggle.

 

This time he was woken for supper, and trailed after Ron into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. Tonight only the Weasleys and Professor Snape were present at the table. Remus wasn't feeling well in the run up to the full moon, they were told as they sat down, and all the shopping had tired him out.

 

"See, it's not just me," said Harry.

 

"No, it's also the werewolf two days before the full moon," said Draco, passing him the roast potatoes. "Give it up, Harry, you're just weak."

 

"I am _not weak!_ " Well, that was awfully defensive – but the remark had been painful. Especially with the issue of his power lately…

 

Draco was looking at him with raised brows as Snape sneered. Harry ducked his head, embarrassed, and supper continued with no further comments from him. Draco addressed a few remarks in his direction, and Hermione tried to draw him out, but Harry was tired and rather depressed, and it seemed too much effort to cheer up.

 

After supper, when the dishes were done and their group was alone again, Ginny pulled him into the library and said, "Let's see it, then!"

 

"Yes, please," said Hermione, hooking her arm through his.

 

"Yeah, mate, I've been dying of curiosity," added Ron, and even Draco nodded and smirked.

 

"Show us, already," he drawled.

 

Harry laughed, unbuttoned his shirt, and dropped it halfway down his back. Ginny promptly let loose a wolf whistle, and he blushed.

 

"Mmmm," Draco purred, and Ron gave him a disturbed look as he stepped forward to pull the bandage off Harry's tattoo.

 

"Oh, Harry, it's lovely," said Hermione.

 

"Lovely?" Harry repeated dubiously.

 

"Wicked," Ron corrected.

 

On the back of Harry's shoulder was an infinity symbol. Above it was the symbol for friendship, and below it was the symbol for strength. The shapes harmonised well, Harry knew, so the whole thing seemed like one intricate design.

 

"Very Gryffindor," Draco said, as Harry hitched his shirt back into place. "Happy birthday, Harry."

 

"Thanks," said Harry.

 

"I wonder what Mum would do if I got a tattoo," Ron mused.

 

"I don't think we should go there," said Ginny. "If we even could. Shame, too – you're such a big canvas."

 

Ron did not deign to reply to this. After a while the group settled down to play wizard's poker – another game at which Draco seemed adept at cheating. He was so shameless about it that they couldn't even be mad; he made no attempt at subtlety. As the evening progressed, they all began competing to see who could cheat the most outrageously, and Ginny definitely gave Draco a run for his money. They were all laughing like hyenas.

 

Eventually the library door opened and Mrs Weasley looked in. "Time for bed, dears," she said. "It's almost eleven."

 

"So?" Draco muttered, but the Weasleys were already putting down their cards, with Harry and Hermione right after. Draco threw his cards onto the pile, revealing the royal flush he'd been holding, and smirked at the outraged noise Ron made at the sight of it.

 

"She's right, we'd better get to bed," said Hermione, briskly collecting all the cards and tapping them into a neat stack.

 

"Bunch of wild people, you are," Draco said, with more than a hint of scorn, and Ron flipped him a two-fingered salute.

 

"Shut up, Draco," said Harry, getting up and heading for the door. "It's been a long day." Not that he had any intention of going to sleep just yet, but he'd rather be alone in his continuing wakefulness.

 

"Harry," Draco said at Harry's bedroom door, "could I have a word before you go to bed?"

 

Ron headed into the room, and Harry turned to Draco. "Sure, what is it?" he asked.

 

"I just wondered if you were up to doing that enhancing charm tonight," said Draco. "And also –" He put a hand on the back of Harry's neck and dragged him in for a kiss.

 

Harry kissed him back for a minute, unable to resist – Draco tasted so good – but then he marshalled his resources and pulled away. "Sure, I guess," he said, avoiding Draco's slightly surprised look. "Your room?"

 

Draco brightened and headed quickly down the hall. Harry shook his head and followed, neatly avoiding Draco's renewed grab as soon as they entered the room.

 

"Something wrong?" Draco asked, frowning.

 

"No, just tired," said Harry cravenly. "What's the charm?"

 

"Augeo vires," said Draco, almost absently, searching Harry's face. "You sure nothing's wrong? You seem kind of depressed for a birthday boy."

 

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "My birthday's never been a big deal before," he said honestly. "I'm sort of nervous, to tell the truth."

 

"No reason to be," said Draco. "It'll be presents and good food and drinks; we'll have a blast!"

 

A blast. That sounded…different, Harry thought. "Well, for now, let me do the charm," he said, shaking it off. "Stick out your tongue."

 

Draco did. Harry studied the shiny silvery barbell piercing it. He couldn't imagine letting – let alone paying - someone to stick a great big needle through his tongue. Draco rolled his eyes impatiently, and Harry tapped the barbell with his wand three times and said firmly, "Augeo vires!"

 

Just as he had in his session with Professor Dumbledore, he concentrated on getting the power out quickly, before the block came down. He was elated that this actually seemed to work this time; he felt the power rush through him, taking shape from the spell as it travelled through the wand, and Draco's barbell glowed white.

 

"Ah!" Draco cried, snapping his mouth shut and then open again like a landed fish. He started hopping about, waving his arms wildly. "Ah, ah ah!  Ow!"

 

"Are you okay?" Harry cried, alarmed.

 

"Ah!" said Draco, and stopped hopping. He worked his jaw carefully a few times and then stuck out his tongue; he seemed to be trying to look at it, but only succeeded in going cross-eyed. Harry snorted with laughter.

 

"Okay, then?" he asked again, as Draco went over to the mirror on the wall and peered at his tongue ring.

 

"Okay," said Draco after a minute. "That – hit a little harder than I expected. And look." He beckoned Harry over to him and pointed at his tongue ring. Harry looked closely; there was now a tiny little lightning bolt etched onto the top of the barbell.

 

"Er," said Harry.

 

"It's okay," said Draco. "It's kind of cool." He fixed Harry with a smouldering look, and Harry felt his hormones smoulder. "Why don't you try it out?"

 

Harry squeaked. He would be embarrassed about that for a long time, he knew. In order to banish the embarrassment, and because he was suddenly reluctant to be alone in his wakefulness, he stepped forward, pulled Draco's head down, and kissed him ruthlessly. The tongue ring did add a certain – _frisson_ – to the proceedings.

 

Draco backed him towards the bed, hands wandering down to clench on his backside. Harry moaned, hands tangled in Draco's hair. The kiss never broke as they tumbled down. Harry's ability to resist was crushed as Draco landed on top of him.

 

When Draco's hand moved to the front of his jeans, Harry did nothing to stop it. On the contrary, he hooked both legs around Draco's thighs, squashing the hand between them as he rutted against Draco's thigh.

 

Draco swore into his mouth and wrenched his hand free, crushing his own body against Harry's til they were both gasping. They had to separate to get some oxygen, and Draco immediately turned his attention to Harry's throat, kissing and biting with abandon.

 

Harry threw his head back, gasping, overwhelmed by the speed and ferocity of what they were doing. His mind was a white-hot blur, all his attention taken up with the inferno in his body. The hell with backing off. This was too good, too hot, too much.

 

And a second later he came, snarling through gritted teeth and hands raking down Draco's back. Draco groaned and followed, and then they just lay there, damp and gasping. In the silence, they heard the clock chiming.

 

"Happy birthday," Draco wheezed.

 

"Thanks," Harry returned, and laughed.

_  
_

_Draco_

 

Despite Draco's exhortations, Harry did not stay the night. The two of them lay in a dazed and sated silence for a while, and then Harry kissed Draco on the forehead and left. None of Draco's protests (minimal, for fear of seeming too needy, that they were) would sway him.

 

After he left, Draco sulked for a little while, but then he dragged himself out of bed, cleaned himself up, and changed into his pyjamas. He really wished he could have a chance to take his time with Harry. He wasn't complaining about their various encounters, they'd been incendiary, but he wanted to see Harry naked. Taste him all over. Mark him as belonging to Draco alone. Cho Chang indeed!

 

Draco was aware enough to realise that Harry would probably be, at the least, taken aback by this ambition. Furious would be likelier, but Draco didn't care. It just sharpened his craving. Now that he was getting to know Harry better, he wanted to possess him more than ever. Who had known that besides being so sexy – which must be a chemistry thing, Draco had decided, since an objective view of Harry's looks wasn't impressive – he was such a good person, and that goodness was not as annoying as Draco had always thought?

 

Two weeks ago, he would have been off to get into Harry's head in a flash, just to see him again. It was aggravating that he didn't dare use his wand here. "Just a quick swish," he said aloud as he got back into bed, miming the wand motion, "and a quick Legilimens –"

 

And he was out of his body and zooming down the hallway.

 

He'd flashed through the door and bounced off Harry's Occlumency shield onto the floor before he got over his shock. _I just did wandless magic_ , he thought numbly to himself. _WANDLESS MAGIC!_

 

He looked up. Harry looked delicious in the green silk pyjamas Draco had made him buy, but he was tossing and muttering in his sleep. Not in a good way, either. Draco climbed to his feet and tried to touch his shoulder, then his hair, but of course his hand went right through.

 

"NO! STOP!" Harry cried, swinging out with both arms. He seemed to be trying to grab something. Some _one_ , Draco corrected himself.

 

Ron woke up at the cry and swung efficiently out of bed. He sat down next to Harry – having walked through Draco, a deeply creepy sensation, worse than a ghost – and grabbed his flailing arms.

 

"Harry? Harry? Wake up, Harry," he said, trapping Harry's hands in one of his and reaching down with the other to shake Harry's shoulder. Harry half-sobbed and his eyes flew open, staring wildly.

 

"Sirius!" he gasped.

 

Ron looked at him gravely. "It was a dream, Harry. Just a dream."

 

Draco watched as Harry half-sobbed again, a dreadful wretched sound, and Ron stroked his hair back from his brow. _That should be me_ , he thought, seething with jealousy.

 

"Sorry, Ron," Harry said, scrubbing unabashedly at his eyes. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

 

"'S no problem, mate. It's not weird that you would dream about him tonight," said Ron. "Are you okay?"

 

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be okay. Thanks."

 

Ron nodded, clapped him on the shoulder, and returned to his own bed. Shortly thereafter his snoring recommenced.

 

Harry, in a move that was no surprise to Draco, lay open-eyed until Ron was asleep, and then climbed out of bed. Draco felt a little thrill when he thought Harry might be coming to his room, and prepared to return to his body, but Harry turned the other way, heading down to the kitchen.

 

Of course. Cocoa, the cure for all the world's ills. Draco followed.

 

Harry did indeed fix himself a cup of cocoa, and sat sipping it with a gloomy air. Draco hovered across from him, trying to read his expression and occasionally pushing gently on his Occlumency shield. It held firm.

 

Harry had been there for about five minutes when there was the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later Lupin entered the kitchen. He paused when he saw Harry, and then went to the stove to fix himself a cup of cocoa as well. Then he sat down in the chair across from Harry and studied him gravely.

 

After a minute or so of silence, he said, "Are you all right, Harry?"

 

"Yes – no. I don't know," said Harry softly. "I just – I had a bad dream. About – about Sirius."

 

Lupin's eyes tightened a bit, but he only nodded and sipped his cocoa. "That's not unreasonable," he said. "After the will reading today and all. I miss him more myself, tonight."

 

Harry plonked his mug back onto the table. "I was so stupid!" he burst out. "To believe Kreacher and go there – of course he thought I had to be rescued – and then – then --"

 

"And then he didn't take Bellatrix seriously enough," said Lupin steadily.

 

Harry's eyes flashed up to his. "He was duelling –"

 

"He was playing with her," said Lupin. "He got cocky, and he lost." He sipped his cocoa again, then set his cup down almost as hard as Harry had. "It makes me furious, personally."

 

Harry gaped at him.

 

"He was an experienced duellist," Lupin went on, looking down at his cocoa. "And he'd duelled her before, plenty of times. He knew what she was capable of."

 

Harry still looked stunned at this view of events.

 

"He was my best friend," said Lupin, looking up and into Harry's eyes. "The last of the Marauders. He had no business being so careless with himself!" His hands clenched into fists on the table.

 

"No business," Harry repeated softly. "But he was only there because of me."

 

"That doesn't make his death your fault," said Lupin sharply. "You and all your friends survived. Because you took the fight seriously and didn't relax your guard."

 

Harry looked struck by this.

 

"His death is Bellatrix's fault," Lupin went on, "and a little bit his own. And I could smack him! If he appeared before me right now I would punch him in the nose."

 

Harry hiccupped on a laugh, and Lupin gave him a small smile, relaxing his fists.

 

"You're right," Harry said slowly. "He took unnecessary risks, didn't he? And now he's gone."  His face crumpled momentarily. "I don't want his stuff. I want him back," he said.

 

"Me too," sighed Lupin.

 

They drank their cocoa in silence after that, and when it was gone Harry got up to leave. Lupin hesitated a minute, then got up too and folded Harry in his arms.

 

"He's mine!"  Draco shouted. "Paws off, werewolf!"

 

But Harry hugged back, and the two remained like that for far longer than Draco thought appropriate before separating. Harry gave Lupin a brave smile and headed back upstairs. At the head of the stairs he hesitated, turning as if to continue down the hall to Draco's room, but in the end he went into his own.

 

Draco followed him in and watched over him as he drifted back to sleep before returning to his own body. His head was whirling. Wandless magic, how could he suddenly do wandless magic?

 

And then it hit him. The enhancing charm Harry had put on his tongue ring. That had to be it; it had boosted his power so that when he said the spell it actually worked even though he hadn't been trying to cast.

 

He smiled evilly to himself as he snuggled down into bed. This was brilliant.

 

He woke the next morning still feeling smug and excited, and slunk down the hall to Harry and Ron's room. Both boys were still asleep when he peeked in, so he went to Harry's bed and proceeded to snog Harry way more enthusiastically than early morning might warrant.

 

"Mmph!" Harry said, waking up suddenly under this onslaught and grabbing Draco's pyjama top.

 

Draco started to nibble on Harry's lower lip, a move that always made Harry whimper, when the door burst open and a sudden weight landed on his back, pushing him down onto Harry and causing him to bite his lip quite hard.

 

"Happy birth – oh, my God! Malfoy!" Granger cried, flailing to get off Draco and instead squashing him harder down onto Harry.

 

"Oof, Ow!" gasped Harry. "Can't – breathe –"

 

"Get off me!" Draco snapped to Granger, arching his back up like a cat's to dislodge her. She slipped to the side and almost onto the floor, saved only by Ron at the last moment.

 

Draco scrambled off Harry and helped him sit up. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

 

Harry nodded, wheezing. "Will be – in a minute –" He rubbed his solar plexus, looking pained.

 

"What do you think you were doing?" Granger shrieked, glaring at Draco when he turned around.

 

There was a giggle from Ginny, who had apparently had sense enough to stay near the door. "Snogging Harry. Good for you two!"

 

"But –"

 

"He does it every morning," Ron said wearily.

 

"But –"

 

"I think it's great," said Ginny. "Happy birthday, Harry. Your lip's bleeding."

 

Harry mopped his bloody lip with the sleeve of his brand-new silk pyjamas, causing Draco to close his eyes in pain at the sight. "Yeah, I'm okay," he said, getting his breathing under control. "Thanks, Ginny. Um – Hermione – are you all right?"

 

Granger was staring at Harry as though he had two heads. "How long has this been going on?" she demanded.

 

"Since about two days after he got here," said Harry, watching her. He wiped his lip again, and Draco made a small protesting noise.

 

"Oh," said Granger rather blankly. "I didn't know you were gay, Harry."

 

Harry turned vermilion. He opened his mouth, seemed to reconsider, and said, "Whatever." He went to mop his lip again.

 

"Stop that!" Draco shouted, unable to stand it. Harry started. "Go take off that shirt and soak the sleeve in cold water at _once_ , and you might get the blood out. What were you thinking? Aaagh!"

 

Harry gave him an indulgent smile, a little lopsided due to his swelling lip. "I didn't want blood to go everywhere," he said, nevertheless removing the pyjama shirt and climbing out of bed. Draco took the moment to admire the lean – still too lean, dammit - muscles lightly dusted with hair as Harry went past him toward the bathroom. Much to his annoyance, so did both the girls.

 

Ron didn't like that either. "Well, you might as well let us get dressed," he said loudly. Granger blushed, but Ginny just gave him a saucy look, then drew Granger out of the room.

 

"I don't know what it is with him," Ron muttered, climbing out of bed and going to get some clothes.

 

"There's just something about him," said Draco. "But they shouldn't be looking. He's mine."  Oops. Probably not a good idea to have said that…

 

Ron raised a fiery brow. "Harry belongs to himself. Keep that straight in your head, Malfoy."

 

Draco turned up his nose and hurried to his room to get dressed. He got back in time to see Harry and Ron emerging from their room. Ron was laughing. Harry was wearing a new pair of jeans that fit him perfectly and one of his new T shirts – he'd bought several. This one, Draco saw as he approached them, was white and had a picture of a black cauldron and a black kettle on it. A speech balloon from the kettle said, "What did you just call me?"

 

"Nice shirt," said Draco, laughing also.

 

"Thanks, I thought so," said Harry. "Come on, I'm starving, let's get breakfast."

 

Breakfast was a sumptuous affair even by Mrs Weasley's standards, and made more pleasant – even to Draco – by the conspicuous absence of Professor Snape. Draco made a note to himself to avoid the man today, if his headache was anything like the ones Draco had experienced. Mrs Weasley exclaimed over Harry's bitten lip and healed it for him immediately, Harry blushing all the while.

 

Harry received several owls, but Granger was quick to commandeer their packages. The first time she did this, Harry looked at her in hurt surprise. "What are you doing?"

 

"Oh, Harry, don't worry," she said comfortingly, handing the package to Ginny and coming to give him a hug. "We're just saving them for later, so you can have all your presents at once."

 

Harry looked sceptical, but didn't object when she corralled the rest of his owls. She did let him have the newspaper.

 

After breakfast Mrs Weasley shooed Harry, Ron, and Draco out of the kitchen. The twins Flooed in as they were leaving and wished Harry boisterous Happy Birthdays, with many hugs and rufflings of his hair. He looked a little dizzy by the time they released him.

 

"I have an idea," said Draco as the three of them headed upstairs. "Harry, this place has a ballroom, doesn't it?"

 

"I don't know," said Harry, looking startled. "I've never seen one."

 

"I have," said Ron. "We cleaned it while you were with the Muggles, Harry. It's on the first floor."

 

"Good," said Draco. "Let's have a look."

 

The other boys followed him, looking mystified. He found the door with little difficulty and swung it open. As he had hoped, the room was enormous – clearly making use of quite a lot of Wizardspace. The vaulted ceiling was at least thirty feet high. "Perfect," he said, and turned to Harry and Ron. Harry was staring at the room with his mouth open. "You two have your brooms here, right?"

 

Ron began to smile. "Damn right," he said, and glanced at Harry, who was still looking dumbfounded. "I'll just go get them, shall I?"

 

"You do that." Ron departed, and Draco smiled at Harry. "Like what you see?"

 

"It's amazing," said Harry, looking at the gleaming marble floor and the hundreds of intricate carvings on the walls. "I've never seen anything like this."

 

"We have one at ho – Malfoy Manor," said Draco. "Not as big as this, though. The Blacks are – or were – a Premier family."

 

Harry tore his eyes away from the décor. "Why aren't they anymore?"

 

"There's no Head of the Family," Draco explained. Harry looked thoughtful at that, but just then Ron arrived with the brooms, even Draco's, and so he forbore to comment.

 

"Too bad we don't have a Snitch," Draco mourned, mounting his broom.

 

Ron produced a small ball from his pocket. "We have this. Harry can charm it, can't you, Harry?"

 

"Where did you get a Muggle golf ball?" Harry asked, taking it with a quirked brow.

 

"Dad's shed, where else?" said Ron. He produced an apple from his other pocket. "Bludger stand-in," he explained.

 

"Okay." Harry produced his wand and pondered for a moment. First, he pointed it at the apple and said "Engorgio." The apple grew to the size of a real Bludger, and Ron hefted it with a grin. He startled a bit when it twitched in his hand, but he managed to hang on to it when it tried to escape. Then Harry tapped the golf ball and muttered something, and to Draco's amazement, it grew wings and took off.

 

"Bloody hell!" said Ron, staring.

 

"Wow, that worked better than I thought it would," said Harry. He threw his leg over his broom and grinned at Draco. "Come on, let's get it!"

 

All three boys launched into the air.


	8. Chapter 8

This was just what he had needed, Harry exulted as he twisted his broom in a soaring corkscrew. Though he was accustomed to spending most of his summers confined in a small space, it wasn't something he relished. The chance to stretch and get some real exercise was priceless.

 

Draco swerved in front of him, aiming for their makeshift Snitch. Harry kicked a little more speed into his corkscrew, and while he didn't get the Snitch himself, he made sure Draco didn't either.

 

"That won't work forever, Harry!" Draco called, grinning wildly.

 

"It doesn't need to!" Harry shouted back, swooped into a dive, and sped after the Snitch's new trajectory. Ron lobbed the apple-Bludger at him, and he dipped sideways to avoid it, nearly banging his cheek on the marble floor.

 

Ron cried out in alarm even as the apple bounced back to him, but Harry only laughed and poured more speed into his dodge, rocketing toward the ceiling, hot on the trail of the Snitch. Draco soared in from the side and made a grab that just missed. Harry lunged up, grabbed the Snitch, and immediately twisted his broom sideways and down to avoid being flattened against the ceiling.

 

"Not again," Draco groaned.

 

"Hah! That's 8 out of 10 to Harry!" Ron crowed.

 

"Yeah, yeah," said Draco. "The next one's mine, I can feel it."

 

"You say that every time, Draco," said Harry, laughing.

 

"It increases the odds of it being true," said Draco shamelessly. "Come on, Harry, let's go!"

 

But before Harry could release the Snitch, Ginny stuck her head in the door and called, "Lunchtime!" Then she stepped in, caught sight of the boys on their brooms, and breathed, "Wicked!"

 

Hermione looked in and exclaimed, "Wow! What a great idea!"

 

"It was," said Draco smugly, landing beside them. Harry landed a moment later, having paused to end the Transfiguration on the golf ball-Snitch.

 

Ron landed and held out the apple-Bludger, and Harry ended the spells on it as well. "We had a great time!" Ron enthused to the two girls, wiping sweat from his brow. "You two should give it a try, too."

 

"After lunch, I will," said Ginny, while Hermione eyed Ron's broom askance. Harry knew she really didn't like flying and did it as little as possible.

 

Harry was uncomfortably sweaty, now that he had a chance to notice, and both the other boys were dripping as well. "Do we have time for a shower?" he asked, raking his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

 

Hermione bit her lip. "Not really. Everyone's waiting."

 

"Quick cleaning charm," said Draco, and stood back, arms spread.

 

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

 

"I trust you," Draco said seriously, maintaining his pose.

 

"OK then," said Harry, matching the seriousness of the tone, but unable to repress his smile. Draco returned it and nodded.

 

"Scourgify!" Harry cried, aiming his wand.

 

"Oof," said Draco, a moment later. He looked a little windblown, but also _extremely_ clean. "Getting better with the block, I see. Better brace yourself, Ron."

 

Ron looked apprehensive, but stood still for the spell. "I see what you mean," he said when it had passed. His clothes looked brand new, they were so clean. Hermione and Ginny were wide-eyed as Harry turned his wand on himself.

 

Despite what Draco thought, the block was still there. Harry had just managed to make it a little slower to come down, so a little more power went into his spell. It felt like a rush of arctic air going right through him, but he was definitely clean and ready for lunch when it had passed.

 

"We are going to have to talk about this," Hermione said as they headed for the kitchen.

 

"I'll tell you as much as I can," said Harry uncomfortably. "Professor Dumbledore doesn't want me discussing it with anyone."

 

"Even us? Why? Never mind, that's for later," said Hermione. "Happy birthday, Harry!" She pushed open the kitchen door.

 

"Happy birthday!" called out apparently the entire Order of the Phoenix. Harry took an involuntary step back at the noise, then grinned as the people in the kitchen broke into applause and cheers.

 

"Come on, Harry," Ginny whispered, pushing him forward into the room. As he headed for the seat that was clearly for him, wound with crepe paper and bedecked with sparkling balloons, the people he passed clapped him on the shoulder or shook his hand. The other kids followed him into the room and took their own places at the table.

 

Once Harry was seated, a beaming Mrs Weasley waved her wand, and lunch appeared on the table much the way it did at Hogwarts – all at once and in plentiful amounts. All Harry's favourites were there; he helped himself enthusiastically, ravenous from the flying that morning.

 

Conversation did its best to stay off the topics of the war, or Voldemort. That meant that silences often fell, but the kids talked animatedly about Quidditch, and soon enough most of the adults joined in. Even Mundungus Fletcher turned out to have strong views on Quidditch. He was a fan of the Pride of Portree, and got into a fairly loud debate with Ron over the possible redemption of the Chudley Cannons.

 

Harry knew the Seekers of some teams, since he was often compared to them, but not much of the teams overall. This lunch, he received quite a crash course. It gave him a higher view of Ron's capacity for optimism when he was informed of League standings and realised the Cannons had been last for over a century.

 

"You do remind me of Stryker," said Draco, referring to the Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons. "But he's not as twisty as you are. He tends to power through rather than dodge."

 

"'Course, he's bigger than you," George added.

 

"Everyone's bigger than me," said Harry grumpily. Was he done growing, now that he was sixteen? That would be depressing. He was still shorter than most of the girls in Gryffindor, let alone the boys.

 

"But that's a good thing for a Seeker!" said Fred. "You're speedier than a lot of professionals, Harry. You'll have a good chance if you decide to go pro."

 

"Yeah, until Voldemort shows up at a game," said Harry. Mrs Weasley frowned, but her husband beat her to the punch.

 

"Oh, he'll be gone by then, Harry," he said breezily.

 

Optimism obviously ran in the family, Harry decided, as a chorus of agreement rose around the table. Snape, who was making a dark gloomy spot at the other end of the table, sneered.

 

Just at that moment Hestia Jones turned into a canary, and between the laughter and Mrs Weasley's scolding of the twins, the moment was forgotten.

 

When everyone had eaten their fill, Mrs Weasley carried in an enormous cake, frosted in swirls of emerald green and topped with sixteen candles, and placed it in front of Harry. He regarded it with awe – his first birthday cake to come complete with candles and well-wishers!

 

When he had been silent for a few moments, Draco said, "Make a wish and blow out the candles, Harry, don't dither about all day." He smiled encouragingly. Several people at the table looked misty-eyed.

 

Harry closed his eyes and thought. What should he wish for? An end to Voldemort? Better an end to the war – he wasn't dumb enough to think just killing Voldemort would magically erase the entire conflict.

 

True love? He glanced at Draco through his lashes and felt his face going hot.

 

A real life. A peaceful life, he decided, took a deep breath, and blew out all the candles. There was a round of applause, and Mrs Weasley began slicing and distributing the cake.

 

Harry took his first bite and almost melted. Chocolate didn't even begin to describe it. It was better than anything he'd ever tasted, better than sex, at least to the degree he'd experienced it. He closed his eyes and moaned.

 

"Excellent cake, Molly," said Remus.

 

"Mmmm," said Harry dreamily.

 

"This is the best thing I've ever tasted," said Draco in hushed tones.

 

"Mmmm," said Harry.

 

"Well done, Molly, well done. It's delicious," Professor Dumbledore said heartily.

 

"Mmmm," said Harry. He opened his eyes, caught Ginny's amused look, and blushed again. "How have I never tasted this before?" he asked hurriedly.

 

Ron chewed and swallowed his bite of cake. "It's for birthdays," he said. "The timing was never right. I guess you like it, though, huh, mate?"

 

"Like doesn't even cover it," Harry assured him. "Thank you so much for making it, Mrs Weasley."

 

"You're quite welcome, dear," she said, beaming.

 

Even Snape's expression lightened, and he ate a big slice of cake.

 

After cake, everyone repaired to the parlour, where there was a large pile of presents next to the biggest armchair. Harry gaped at it. Surely there hadn't been that many owls! Where had all this come from?

 

"Have a seat, Harry," said Hermione. "I'll hand you the packages."

 

He sank into the chair, still staring.

 

"Not a bad haul," said Draco judiciously.

 

"I've never –" Harry heard a sniffle from someone, and shut up fast. Who cared how pathetic his previous birthdays had been? This one was bloody brilliant!

 

Hermione handed him an oblong- shaped package. "This one's from me," she said demurely.

 

Harry opened it and burst out laughing. The cover proclaimed it to be _Hogwarts: A History._

 

"Open it," Hermione urged with a mischievous smile. Harry did so, and promptly slammed it closed again with the fiercest blush yet.

 

"Thanks, Hermione," he said quickly.

 

"You're welcome. Here, this one's from Ginny," she said, giggling and completely ignoring the cries of Ron, Draco, and the twins (and even some of the adults), who were wild to find out what was in the book.

 

In short order, Harry was in possession of the lock from Ginny, the oil for his Quidditch gloves from Ron, the book on Seeker strategies as well as the one on Defence spells from Tonks – Draco scowled at that – and a beautiful winter cloak from Remus. Mr Weasley gave him a hammer and Mrs Weasley gave him a woven leather wrist band.

 

Much to his surprise, though, he got presents from everyone in the Order as well – candy, books, quills…Snape gave him a little flask of silvery fluid, which was explained when Harry unwrapped the Pensieve from Professor Dumbledore.

 

"This memory is to be _kept to yourself,_ " Snape growled, and Harry flinched a little. Hadn't he kept Snape's other memory to himself? But Snape obviously didn't know that, and Harry was not about to bring it up now.

 

"We'll go over how to use it properly in your training tomorrow, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, and Harry nodded quickly, setting the flask and the Pensieve carefully aside.

 

Finally, Mundungus Fletcher sidled up to him and handed him a badly wrapped package, muttering, "Best not open it here, kid."

 

Harry, mystified, put it aside as well.

 

"Something to entertain the masses, then," said Remus, and produced his phonograph. Instead of the swing music Harry expected, though, the record he put on was some kind of classic rock.

 

"The Sea Serpents!" Bill cried. "They were legends! Where did you get this?"

 

"Bought it new," said Remus, grinning. Bill and Charlie immediately descended on the stack of records next to the player.

 

"Oh, wow, there is some great stuff here!" Charlie enthused. Ginny had already leapt to her feet and started dancing, accompanied, to Harry's surprise, by Draco. And didn't it just figure that Draco was an excellent dancer.

 

"Come on, Harry," said Hermione, pulling him to his feet. He shuffled awkwardly to the beat, watching as more and more people joined their dancing group. Remus danced with Tonks, Hestia Jones danced with Alastor Moody (a sight that would stay with Harry for a long, long time), and Mr and Mrs Weasley stunned everyone with their Terpsichorean skills.

 

A long while later, when the group had thinned out as the adults went off to bed with many well wishes, Harry discovered he was dancing with Draco – and not badly either. "You're getting the hang of it, Harry," said Draco, and pulled him close for a spin, causing Harry to trip over his feet once again. "Or not."

 

Harry laughed. "I'll get there," he said, and tried spinning Draco. Draco swirled out and back perfectly on the beat and stole a kiss.

 

"Woo hoo, Harry!" called the twins. "Way to go!  See you won't be needing our crash course on how to pick up girls!"

 

"Am I the only one disturbed by this?" Hermione asked, not quite under her breath.

 

Draco stopped dancing and swung around to glare at her (Harry tripped again and scrambled upright as fast as he could). "It would seem so, Granger. And what disturbs you so much anyway? I'm a Slytherin? I'm a Malfoy?"

 

"You're a _boy_ ," she snapped. "A Malfoy, yes, but primarily a boy."

 

"So?" Draco seemed honestly puzzled. Was that not an issue in the Wizarding world? Had Harry been wasting the little angst he'd spared for worrying over acting on his attraction to another boy?

 

Meanwhile, there was no more dancing. Everyone was watching Draco and Hermione, while the music played on in the background. The whole tableau took on a surreal tinge.

 

"What do you mean, so? Harry being gay is a big deal," said Hermione.

 

"Why? What could it possibly have to do with you?" Draco demanded. Then his eyes narrowed. "You want him for yourself, don't you?"

 

Ron stiffened as Hermione snapped "Don't be an idiot. I'm his friend; I'm worried about him. His life's been so difficult, and this is just something else that'll make it even more horrible –"

 

"Hey!" Harry put in. "Draco hasn't made my life horrible. Or," he added hastily as all the Weasleys smirked, "kissing Draco hasn't made my life horrible." He blushed _yet again_ when the Weasley twins gave him a thumbs-up and Ginny winked.

 

"But when the press gets hold of it, it will be horrible," Hermione insisted. "The Boy-Who-Lived snogging boys! It'll be a scandal!"

 

"Uh, Hermione, nobody's going to care that they're both boys," said George slowly.

 

"Are you saying Muggles would care?" Fred asked, sounding fascinated, but in a kind of horrified way.

 

"Of course! Wizards don't?" Hermione looked from one rather pitying face to another, until she got to Harry's annoyed one. "Oh, Harry! Don't look at me like that, I'm just worried about you! If it's not going to be a big deal, then that's wonderful!"

 

"Fantastic," said Harry shortly. "Glad it's okay then."

 

"Please don't be like that," said Hermione with dignity. "You're my friend. I'm allowed to worry."

 

Harry didn't know how he felt at the moment; irritated, relieved, embarrassed? But Hermione had just been trying to help, in her customary leap-ahead way – she too was a Gryffindor. "It's okay, Hermione," he made himself say, and she gave him an uncertain smile.

 

"Well!" said George. "Subject change – I think we would now like to know what Dung gave you, Harry."

 

Harry had forgotten all about Mundungus Fletcher's surreptitiously-gifted package. He fished it out from under the chair cushions and unwrapped it to reveal a full bottle of Old Ogden's Finest Firewhisky. The twins and Draco cheered, Ginny giggled, and Ron said, "Wicked!"

 

"For once I agree with you, Ron," said Draco.

 

"You're not really going to drink that, are you?" Hermione exclaimed in appalled tones.

 

For God's sake, he was sixteen, did Hermione think she was his mother? "Yes, I am," said Harry defiantly, opened the bottle, and knocked back a slug of Firewhisky. Then he wheezed for breath while everyone laughed, the drink burning all the way down his gullet.

 

"Give it here, then," said Draco, and also knocked back a shot, only gasping slightly. The bottle quickly made the rounds; Ron gasped as much as Harry, Ginny nearly choked, and the twins just smacked their lips. When the bottle came to Hermione, she regarded it primly for a moment before taking a big drink – and not choking at all.

 

She then set down the bottle, crossed to Harry, and kissed him on the cheek. "Happy birthday, Harry," she said. "Have fun – just remember it's back to work tomorrow morning, and a hangover won't help."

 

"Thanks, Hermione," said Harry, returning her hug. She gave them all a stern look and left the room.

 

"Now," said Fred, rubbing his hands together. "How about a nice friendly game of I Never?"

 

 

_Draco_

 

Harry hadn't led as sheltered a life as Draco had thought, Draco mused. He was also an incredible lightweight. They'd only gone around the circle once, but Harry had had to drink every time but one, and was currently lying on the floor giggling to himself. Granted, they'd been generous drinks each time, but still --!

 

He'd kissed a boy, kissed a girl, snuck out after curfew, and lied to Dumbledore. The only thing he hadn't done was have sex.

 

 _Everyone_ else but Draco had drunk on that one, though, and currently Ron was having his outraged reaction smacked down by his surprisingly naughty sister.

 

"Not like you can talk, Ronnie dear," she wound up, glaring.

 

"I'm a year older than you!" Ron protested, blushing furiously.

 

"And a boy, so somehow that makes it okay?" she returned.

 

"Now, Ginny…" said Fred.

 

"…Ronnikins is just concerned…" George continued.

 

"…over whom we might…"

 

"…have to welcome into the family."

 

"No one," said Ginny coolly. "We broke up."

 

"Who dared to take advantage of my sister and then dump her?" Ron roared.

 

"I dumped him," said Ginny. "He turned out to be a prat. And he didn't 'take advantage,' Ron. Get your head out of your ass and give me some credit for being able to take care of myself."

 

"Were you in love, Gin?" Harry suddenly inquired from under the coffee table, where he'd rolled during his giggles.

 

Ginny tilted her head to look at him, and smiled. "I was in serious like," she said. "I don't think I was really in love, no. Why?"

 

Harry waved a floppy hand and the table levitated up to the ceiling. Everyone scrambled away from its likely fall zone. "No reason. Just wonderin'. How abou' you, Ron?" He turned over to peer at Ron, and the table spun in mid-air. "Were you 'n love?"

 

"Yeah," said Ron, eyeing the table nervously. His blush intensified.

 

"'twas Herm – herm – ninny, right?"

 

Ron shifted uncomfortably.

 

"No?" Harry said in surprise, sitting up. The table dropped, and Draco barely managed to jerk Harry out from under it in time. Harry regarded the broken furniture with the same surprise. "Thanks, Draco." He flung his arms around Draco's neck and gave his cheek a wet kiss.

 

"Who else…" said George.

 

"…could it have been?" wondered Fred, inspecting his younger brother for signs of attractiveness to non-Hermione girls.

 

"It was," Ron admitted. "But I'm not gonna talk about it! It's personal." He folded his arms and looked mulish.

 

"Tha'ss so nice," said Harry, looking sentimental and cuddling up to Draco's side.

 

"It really is," said Ginny. "Well done, Ron."

 

Draco wondered how Ron could blush that hard without his head exploding.

 

Harry flopped down and put his head in Draco's lap. "My head's spinning," he announced, sounding surprised.

 

George regarded him with affection. "I think it's bedtime for our birthday boy," he said. "Need any help, Malfoy?"

 

"No," said Draco, gathering Harry closer.

 

Harry smiled up at him. "You have pretty eyes," he said.

 

"Thanks," said Draco, rolling them. The twins fluttered their eyelashes and made kissy noises as he tried to get Harry on his feet. Harry's knees were uncooperative, and finally Ron took his other arm and steadied him as well.

 

"Okay there, mate?" he asked, grinning at Harry.

 

Harry grinned back. "Yes," he stated confidently, and strode out ahead – straight into the doorframe. "Ow."

 

Draco and Ron repossessed his arms. "How can you be this drunk?" Draco asked in exasperation. "Come on, then." He and Ron walked Harry out of the room and up the stairs.

 

Harry managed the stairs surprisingly well, and then pulled away again when Ron stopped at their shared bedroom door. "I'm goin' with Draco," he said.

 

Ron looked resigned. "Okay, mate," he said. "Can you get down there all right?"

 

"Course!" said Harry, looking indignant. "Night, Ron."

 

"Night, Harry. Happy birthday."

 

As he walked Harry down the hall towards his room, Draco looked back once. Ron was standing in the doorway of his room, watching to make sure they made it safely. Draco smiled at him, being just buzzed enough to feel great affection for all the world, and Ron smiled back, disappearing into his room when Draco opened the door to his own.

 

"Here we are!" Harry announced, flopping onto the bed and stretching out his arms and legs.

 

"Yeah, here we are," said Draco. "What are we going to do now?"

 

"Snog," said Harry. "I want a birthday kiss." He beckoned to Draco, who grinned and joined him on the bed. "I like your kisses. Gimme a kiss."

 

"Boy, are you going to feel this tomorrow," Draco muttered, looking into Harry's unfocussed eyes. Then he leaned down and kissed Harry, slowly and gently, the way he'd been wanting to.

 

Harry sighed into his mouth and kissed back the same way, resting one hand on Draco's hip and running the other through his hair.

 

"Nice," he said, when Draco pulled back. "Kiss me again."

 

So Draco kissed him again. They lay there like that, kissing languidly for what felt like hours. It was peaceful and affectionate and wonderful; Draco was enchanted.

 

Also – he was sixteen, after all – turned on. After a while he began running his hands over Harry's body, which led to both boys getting out of their clothes. At last, Harry Potter was naked before Draco Malfoy.

 

Harry Potter had prominent collarbones, hipbones, and only slightly less-so ribs. He had knobby knees. His skin was tanned unevenly and lightly dusted with dark hair, rough under Draco's fingers. He was squinting slightly to keep Draco in focus, and of course he had that whacking great curse scar on his forehead.

 

None of it mattered. The sight of him, the scent of him, made Draco burn.

 

Harry – and curse the Firewhisky for it – was only half hard, though he was moaning and squirming most satisfactorily as Draco slowly explored him with fingers and mouth. Draco took advantage of this to take his time and do all the little things he had been longing to do to Harry. Harry barely reciprocated, mostly just running his fingers through Draco's hair whenever it was within reach, but that was okay, this time.

 

Eventually, though, Harry did harden, and things began to speed up. Draco found himself stroking harder, biting instead of nibbling, and feeling Harry's touch starting venture further than his hair. He rubbed over Harry's perineum with damp fingers, and Harry yowled and spread his legs, crowding closer and clutching at Draco with white knuckles.

 

"I want you," Harry moaned, wriggling as Draco's fingers wandered further. "Ohhh, I want you Draco. Draco, fuck me."

 

Oh, how Draco wanted to. The mere request jolted him almost out of his mind.

 

But Harry was drunk.

 

The passion echoing between them flamed higher suddenly and uncontrollably. Draco kissed Harry fiercely and pushed a finger in. Harry threw back his head, gasping. Then he stiffened all over as Draco found his prostate and rubbed his fingertip over it.

 

"Dra – Dra – Draco! Oh my God, Draco!" He writhed like an eel; Draco could barely keep his grip on him, except that he was pressing so close. "Ohhh, God, Draco, fuck me, _please!_ "

 

Draco raked his teeth over Harry's nipple and introduced another finger. Harry keened like a banshee. Draco rubbed frantically against Harry's leg, nearly blind with lust.

 

Another stroke over his prostate and Harry came, shouting and raking fingers down Draco's back. Draco pulled himself up and shoved his cock between Harry's wet thighs, closing them with his own and thrusting between them only a few times before he erupted as well.

 

Then he collapsed on top of Harry, only gradually realising that the sparks he was seeing were magic and not oxygen deprivation.

 

Harry lifted a hand and laid it heavily on Draco's head. He was breathing in short gasps; Draco thought he should probably get off him. As soon as he had some strength, he'd get right to that.

 

"Really like you, Draco," said Harry drowsily.

 

Draco smiled – he was not much for warm and fuzzy feelings, but he couldn't deny he was experiencing them right now. "Like you too," he murmured, then gathered his energy and flipped off Harry so the other boy could breathe. Harry was already asleep.

 

Draco fell asleep as well, but woke sometime in the deep night needing the loo. Harry was snoring beside him, drooling onto the pillow. Draco smiled goofily at him before going off to the loo and getting a drink of water. Once back in bed, though, he couldn't sleep, so he lay there listening to Harry snore for a while.

 

Harry was definitely his, Draco mused. Nobody else had been taking good enough care of him; look how skinny he was! Draco would make sure he ate and dressed well, got his eyes fixed, and got the block off his magic. Imagine nobody noticing that before!

 

Harry had never had a physical relationship before. Draco, veteran of several even if they'd never been fully consummated, was enjoying this one more than any he had ever had before. It gave him a satisfying feeling of power to see Harry experience such pleasure because of him, but that was balanced by the incredible pleasure he experienced because of Harry. They just fit together.

 

And now they seemed to have the knack of disagreeing without descending into viciousness, which just made things all the better. Draco preferred a happy Harry. Anyone who made Harry unhappy would have him to deal with.

 

A little voice in the back of his mind pointed out that Harry was not a helpless little flower, and knew how to give as good as he got. Draco countered that that didn't matter; no one was going to damage Harry, whether physically or emotionally. He'd see to it.

 

Speaking of which, Professor Snape had forced Draco himself to make Harry unhappy. _That_ was not on, and Draco knew just what he was going to do. Grinning evilly to himself, he mimed the required wand motion and muttered, "Legilimens."

 

He zoomed immediately down the hall, down the stairs, and then down more stairs – Professor Snape had a room next to his lab in the basement. He just seemed to need to live underground.

 

Draco found the Professor awake and – ugh – naked! He recoiled at once, before he even got near the man's Occlumency shields, and took refuge across the room, where Snape's robes were draped over a chair. Snape was bathing, looking fierce and strangely restless.

 

Draco looked away, though he was interested to discover that Professor Snape had a Hungarian Horntail tattooed on his chest. A change of plan occurred to him, and he waved his hand over the robes, muttering a series of charms. Then another excellent idea occurred to him, and he whooshed back through the house.

 

He found Harry's shields spongy, probably due to the alcohol, and with a little effort he wriggled through. Harry's mind was dim with sleep, but he seemed to be having a nice dream. Draco left that alone and said out loud, "Imperius. You are not afraid to use your full power." Harry wouldn't throw off an Imperius he didn't know was there, and maybe this would give him the boost he needed. Draco was taking no chances that Harry would lose any confrontations with the Dark Lord or the Death Eaters, both for Harry's sake and, frankly, his own.

 

He squirmed out through the thin place he'd made in Harry's shield, and dropped back into his own body. Harry snuffled and turned over. Draco nodded in satisfaction, kissed the top of Harry's head, and went to sleep.

 


	9. Chapter 9

_Harry_

 

Harry stirred as the ever-present ache in his head began to intensify, muttering in his sleep. Something was poking at his mental shields, and it had distracted him from a very nice dream. Frowning, he pushed at the intrusion.

 

It resisted, jabbing harder at his shield, and he heard the echo of a familiar high, cold laugh. _Not that easy, Potter…_

 

The pain coalesced in his scar, and he gasped, surfacing from sleep with one hand clamped on his forehead. Grimly he reinforced his shields, pouring as much power into them as he could. The laugh morphed into a snarl of rage, then faded to silence.

 

And the pain in his head disappeared completely.

 

The shock brought him into full wakefulness. He had had that headache literally since the end of his fourth year, and to have it vanish so suddenly was disorienting, to say the least. Aside from ferocious thirst, he felt better than he had in a year and a half.

 

Dazed, he extricated himself from Draco's arms and went to get a drink. The cold water was possibly the best thing he had ever tasted. He sluiced some of it over his face and neck as well, then said aloud, "Sod it," and started up the shower. His body was unpleasantly sticky.

 

The shower felt divine. He luxuriated under the cool spray for a little while, of course becoming more and more awake in the process. As that happened, memories started flooding back of the previous evening…how he'd got so wasted on so little Firewhisky…how he'd dragged Draco to bed and demanded kisses…demanded to be fucked!

 

And Draco hadn't done it.

 

Well, Harry had been drunk and graceless. He'd really, really enjoyed what they'd been doing, but obviously he hadn't contributed to the experience much; he'd been too uncoordinated. Probably Draco hadn't had quite as much fun as Harry had.

 

On the one hand, it was a bit mortifying that he'd lost all control and begged – and been refused. On the other hand, though, it was pretty decent of Draco to realise that Harry mightn't have begged if he were sober, and hold off. They hadn't been at this all that long, after all, and while Harry knew he was in "serious like" with Draco, he didn't think he was ready to go all the way down that road quite yet.

 

 

Sighing, he shut off the shower, climbed out, and towelled off. He was now fully awake and his head was still exquisitely pain-free. There was no way he was going back to bed now. Slinking back to Draco's room, he put his clothes back on and then headed downstairs to see if there was any birthday cake left.

 

Hermione was in the kitchen, and so, Harry discovered, was Ron. They were sitting very close together, mugs steaming forgotten on the table in front of them. Harry stopped just short of the door.

 

"– most amazing thing I've ever felt," Hermione was saying. "It woke me up – Ginny too."

 

"Ginny too?" Ron repeated, sounding disturbed.

 

"I think it must have affected everyone in the house, from what you said." She giggled suddenly. "Ron – your parents!"

 

Ron made a face. "Why would you put that image in my head!" Then he burst out laughing. "What about Snape?"

 

Now Hermione made a face. "I just don't want to think about that. I don't think the man has a sexual atom in his body."

 

Snape? Sexual? Eww.

 

Hermione was still talking. "It had to have been – Harry!" She had looked up and spotted him.

 

"Well, yeah," Ron said, and then blushed like fire as Harry came into the room. "Sorry, mate, didn't see you there."

 

"What's going on?" Harry asked, pushing away the tendril of suspicion that tried to creep into his mind.

 

Now Hermione blushed too. "Um – we couldn't, um, sleep, that's all," she said, a little too quickly. "How – how are you feeling, Harry?"

 

"I feel brilliant," said Harry exultantly. "Is there any cake left?"

 

"Don't be silly," said Ron. "There's never leftovers of that cake. There're biscuits, though. Brilliant, huh?" He exchanged a glance with Hermione, then smiled in a strained sort of way. "No hangover?"

 

"No headache," said Harry. "Of any kind."

 

"Harry!" Hermione cried, leaping to her feet. "That's wonderful!" She ran around the table and seized him in a hug, squeezing him breathless.

 

"That is brilliant," said Ron, coming around and clapping him on the shoulder. Harry grinned at them both as everyone settled into chairs, Ron first fetching the crock of biscuits.

 

"So, what -?" Hermione began, and then choked and blushed so hard that Harry's suspicion came back and laughed at him.

 

"I have a feeling you know," he said, looking from one to the other. Both of them were bright red. "Suppose you tell me."

 

Hermione looked at Ron, who shrugged and looked helpless. Swallowing, she turned back to Harry and said, "Well, um, earlier tonight…we, um…we…dreamed…"

 

"Yes?" Harry prompted, when her voice petered out.

 

"We dreamt about sex," she rushed out. Harry felt his own face going red. "And we…um…we felt…everything."

 

"You dreamt about me having sex?" Harry got out.

 

"No! At least, I didn't." She looked at Ron, who shook his head.

 

"Just about having sex," he said. "With…who we'd want to…well, anyway, it was bloody real. Know what I mean, mate?"

 

"Yeah," Harry muttered, putting his burning face down on the table. "Oh, God, and Ginny, too?"

 

"We think everyone in the house," said Hermione, regaining some of her composure. "From what we can tell it all happened at exactly…the…same…time…"  Her lips tightened. "Ron says you were drunk last night. Just like Malfoy to take advantage of you –"

 

"He didn't," Harry interrupted crossly. "If anything, I – look, he and I didn't have sex last night."

 

"Oh." Hermione looked disconcerted.

 

"Everything but, though, huh?" said Ron, and Harry nodded. "And you were drunk, so I bet you just broadcast whatever you were feeling. Guess I'm impressed with Malfoy then." At Harry's puzzled look, he explained, "It was intense, mate."

 

"But Harry," Hermione said briskly, "this means your shields were down or at least weakened. How can you not have your headache now?"

 

"Especially since you were so drunk," Ron put in, sounding a bit aggrieved. "No hangover?"

 

"Guess not," said Harry, surprised. "Though I was thirstier than I've ever been in my life when I first woke up. Voldemort woke me up, poking at my shields. I just poured as much power into them as I could, and it looks like I kicked him out completely."

 

"Maybe your block's letting up," said Ron.

 

"About this block," said Hermione in a determined voice.

 

Harry sighed. "Draco found it when he was in my head. He thinks I caused it by being afraid to do magic outside of school, considering what happened to me every time I did it – or someone did it for me. And then me being careful not to stand out too much at school…"

 

"Like that would ever work," snorted Ron.

 

"But he doesn't stand out, academically," said Hermione. She pinned Harry with a fierce look. "Have you been deliberately getting lower marks? Harry! This is your future you're playing with!"

 

"How much of a future can I really expect?" Harry shot back. Hermione and Ron looked stricken. "Voldemort –"

 

"Shut up, Harry," said Draco, striding into the room. "The Dark Lord hasn't got a chance against you. You do have a future, and much as I may hate to admit it, Granger has a point – you can't be messing about with your marks anymore." He took in their various surprised glances, and added, "I knew you'd be down here."

 

Harry's glance was less surprised than embarrassed. Draco was wearing only his silk pyjama pants, and the bites on his neck and chest and, when he leaned down to steal one of Harry's biscuits, the rake marks down his back, were glaringly obvious. Hermione was blushing again.

 

"Everybody felt what I felt earlier," Harry blurted, hanging on to the biscuit.

 

Draco looked puzzled, and then colour tinted his pale cheeks as he grasped Harry's meaning. For a second he looked disturbed, but then he smirked. "More cause to make me the envy of the Wizarding World, then," he said, reaching for the biscuit crock. "Hand that over; I'm famished."

 

"Even Snape," Harry added.

 

Draco shuddered. "Don't mention him and sex in the same sentence," he advised. "It's creepy. Probably the best time he's had in years, though," he added thoughtfully, and scarfed down a chocolate biscuit. Harry groaned and thumped his head on the table.

 

"Well, we'll be getting back to bed now," Hermione said loudly, getting up and dragging Ron to his feet. "See you in the morning, Harry, Malfoy. Harry, don't forget you have training."

 

"I couldn't possibly," said Harry gloomily. "I have to face Snape for it."

 

Hermione smiled a little. "Be strong. He's probably not going to mention anything. Good night." She and Ron left the kitchen hand in hand.

 

"Hate to think we gave their sex life a boost," said Draco, looking after them.

 

"Oh, shut up," said Harry. "This is embarrassing."

 

"Why? It just means everyone knows how great you are in bed," said Draco. "And me, of course."

 

"Draco! That's personal!"

 

"Well, it's not like they were watching. They just got a feeling, right?" Draco shrugged. "Probably did them some good."

 

Harry thumped his head down on the table again.

 

"Should you be doing that? Your head has to be hurting," said Draco in a concerned tone.

 

Harry's mood started to recover. "Actually, it isn't," he said with a big smile. "Not at all."

 

"Just like you not to get hangovers –" Draco broke off, staring at Harry's smile. "Not at all?"

 

"Nope. Not a twinge," said Harry proudly. "I actually shoved him all the way out."

 

Something like triumph flickered in Draco's eyes for a second. "Brilliant!" He hooked a hand around the back of Harry's neck and gave him an enthusiastic kiss.

 

Harry returned it, and when Draco pulled away he said, "Um…about earlier…I just wanted to say thanks."

 

"It was good, wasn't it?" said Draco shamelessly, buffing his nails on his bare chest. "You're welcome, Harry."

 

"Prat," said Harry, laughing. "No. I meant, thanks for, you know, not – not listening to me."  His eyes dropped from Draco's.

 

Draco didn't say anything for a moment. Then he tipped Harry's chin up with one finger and said, "You're welcome," quite seriously.

 

There didn't seem to be much to say after that. They finished off the biscuits with a mug of cocoa each, and headed back up to bed.

 

Breakfast time came much too soon after that, in Harry's opinion. He had just managed to get deeply asleep when there came a knocking on the chamber door, accompanied by Ginny's voice saying, "Hello? Breakfast, you two. Dumbledore's here, Harry."

 

Harry groaned and clambered out of bed, then had to drag the covers off of Draco, who had burrowed under them and refused to move. "Come on, we have to get up," Harry said, as Draco curled up and complained.

 

Draco opened one eye. "It's the holidays. Why are we getting up so early every day again?"

 

"We have things to do," said Harry. "Didn't you say you have to re-do all your homework?  And I have training." He sighed. "And I have to face Snape and everybody this morning, after last night."

 

Draco snickered and condescended to climb out of bed. "Maybe they won't realise it was us," he suggested in an unconvinced tone as he gathered up some clothes from his various wardrobes. "I need a shower. I'll meet you downstairs."

 

"Okay," said Harry, and went off to change into fresh clothes. Then he headed with dragging feet down the stairs to the kitchen.

 

"Ah, good morning, Harry," said Dumbledore as Harry came into the kitchen. "Refreshed after your birthday, then?"

 

"Yes, sir," said Harry, unable to look at Mr or Mrs Weasley, who were smiling at each other in a scarily knowing way. He slunk into his chair and mumbled a thank-you when Mrs Weasley put a loaded plate in front of him.

 

"We'll be in the library until lunchtime," said Hermione, looking him directly in the left shoulder. "If you get done with your practise in time, you can come in and finish your essays."

 

"I just have the Transfiguration one left," said Harry, seizing the conversational gambit with both hands. "It shouldn't take me that long."

 

"Remember what we talked about, Harry," said Hermione sternly, with a glance at Professor Dumbledore.

 

"I remember," he grumbled. Hermione had clearly reinforced her self-appointed task as Guardian Of Harry's Marks. As he had a sneaking suspicion that Draco was also going to weigh in on the subject, the prospect did not especially appeal. He kept his head down and ate his breakfast.

 

Midway through the meal Draco came in, perfectly assembled as usual, dropped into the seat across from Harry, and favoured the entire table with a wicked grin. "Good morning, everyone," he said. "Sleep well?"

 

Hermione, Ginny, and Ron blushed and stuttered, and Mr and Mrs Weasley smiled at each other again. Remus smirked back at Draco. Dumbledore looked intrigued, and Harry wished he could sink through the floor and vanish.

 

"Quite well, thank you, Mr Malfoy," said Mrs Weasley, handing him a plate.

 

"My pleasure," Draco murmured, with just the faintest emphasis on "my." He applied himself to breakfast without further comment, and silence reigned for all of three minutes.

 

Then the door crashed open, and Severus Snape swooped into the room. They all gaped at him.

 

His robes were as imposing as ever, swirling around his tall form as he came to a halt in the doorway, but they were a deep rich crimson. The colour made his eyes seem brighter, his complexion far less sallow, even his bared teeth seemed whiter. He looked almost handsome, in an incandescently angry sort of way.

 

"Accio Potter's wand!" he snapped as soon as his eyes lit on Harry.

 

Harry _saw_ the energy that powered the spell exit the Professor's wand and head toward him. "Protego!" he exclaimed as he felt his wand move, and it settled back into his pocket. Snape looked surprised, and then even angrier. "What are you doing?"

 

"I knew it was a mistake letting you use your wand, Potter," Snape sneered, looming closer. "Give it to me. Now!"

 

"Why?" Harry demanded, pressing backward into his chair and keeping a firm grasp on his wand.

 

"Let him have it, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore. "I dare say the Professor is concerned about his wardrobe."

 

Reluctantly Harry handed over his wand, just catching Ginny's mutter of "Don't see what he's complaining about…"

 

"Prior Incantato," said Snape, glaring at Harry's wand as though the force of his gaze alone would cause it to catch fire. A tiny puff of smoke issued from the wand – the image of a Silencing Spell. Snape scowled horrifically and repeated his incantation, shaking the wand as though to dislodge whatever it was hiding. The Silencing Spell appeared again.

 

"So you see I didn't do anything," Harry said boldly.

 

"I don't believe you, Potter," said Snape, tossing the wand back at him and leaning in. He looked disturbingly vampiric with his teeth bared like that. "End the charm, NOW!"

 

"I haven't cast any charms," Harry said resentfully.

 

"Can't you end it, Severus?" Professor Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling madly.

 

Snape straightened. "Observe," he said, and waved his own wand. "Finite Incantatem!"

 

His robes turned forest green – also an excellent look for him.

 

He repeated the incantation several times, his robes turning every colour but black. He looked quite handsome in the rich jewel tones; silver was unfortunate and white just strange. Even Professor Dumbledore tried to end the charm, to no avail.

 

When the robes had cycled back to forest green, they desisted. "Well, Severus, a little variety can be a good thing," said Professor Dumbledore cheerily, to which Snape snarled as he sat down. "You do look quite Slytherin."

 

"I like it, Professor," Draco chimed in.

 

"Silence, Mr Malfoy," said Snape. He turned to Harry. "I won't ask why…since when have you needed a reason to make my life more annoying…but how have you done this?"

 

"I didn't do it!" Harry insisted, and angrily shoved away the tendril of Legilimens that brushed his mental shields. In his aggravation, he had forgotten all about his earlier embarrassment. Snape curled his lip and ate his breakfast in silence.

 

Ron caught Harry's eye and gave him a little thumb's up, to which Harry shrugged. Draco smirked and drank his tea, and Hermione and Ginny seemed to be stifling giggles. Even Remus looked amused, though he straightened out his expression whenever Snape happened to look up.

 

Though Harry ate as slowly as possible, at last breakfast was over, and he was following Snape and Professor Dumbledore down to the room beside the Potions lab that they had designated for Harry's training.

 

"Well, Harry, first of all, why don't you have a go at removing the charm on Professor Snape's robe?" suggested Professor Dumbledore.

 

"I _didn't_ –" Harry began, anger escalating.

 

"I know, Harry," soothed Professor Dumbledore. "Just give it a try."

 

Harry swallowed and took aim. Snape stood there with his arms crossed, glowering. Harry cleared his throat.

 

Snape rolled his eyes. "Any time, Potter," he said coldly.

 

"Finite Incantatem!" Harry cried, shoving power through his wand. The barrier he had come to expect made no appearance at all, but once again he saw the power as it left his wand, took the form of the spell, and travelled to Snape. The effect was dramatic: Snape's robes turned black, but also suddenly showed torn and stained places, his hair loosened and looked cleaner, and his nose developed a distinct bump.

 

"My goodness," said Professor Dumbledore, as Harry gaped.

 

Snape looked down at himself, then ran a finger down the bridge of his nose. His lips tightened. "It seems Potter ended every charm on my person," he said. "What will it take to get you to focus, Potter?"

 

Harry ignored this and turned to Professor Dumbledore. "The block didn't interfere at all!" he said excitedly.

 

"Excellent, Harry!" applauded Professor Dumbledore. "Well done!"

 

Snape, having reapplied what were probably repair and Glamour charms – although why he would Glamour his hair to be so greasy, Harry couldn't imagine – said, "Indeed. This is very sudden, Potter. What has changed?"

 

Harry made himself meet Snape's eyes, though he blushed. He knew that sly tone; knew what Snape was referring to. "Nothing," he said. "I've just been meditating, like you said."

 

"On your birthday night?" Snape drawled. "How dedicated of you." He turned in a swirl of robes and positioned himself at the far end of the room. "Well, then, Potter, let's see what you can do now."

 

Harry raised his wand, and the test was on.

 

 

_Draco_

 

In the spirit of optimism, Draco searched very carefully through all five of his wardrobes before accepting that Dumbledore had not managed to rescue his completed homework. Sulkily, he made his way down to the library, stopping once on the stairs as the house seemed to tremble for a moment. Was someone trying to get through the defensive spells on the place? Were Death Eaters --?

 

The trembling settled, and he shook off the spike of fear. He was safe here. Dumbledore would never put Harry where Death Eaters could get in. It was an old house, probably settling on its foundations, that was all.

 

The library was quiet. Granger and Ron were at the big table by the fireplace, writing industriously. Ginny was curled into an enormous armchair with a big green tome. Draco wandered into the stacks and was pleasantly surprised to find that the Black Library seemed to have an even more complete collection than the Malfoy Library. He even spotted Seraphine Slytherin's book, but left it where it was. He didn't need the telling-off he'd get if he were seen reading it in this house.

 

He collected the books he wanted to help him reconstruct his Transfiguration essay and settled down at the end of the library table, a little distance from Granger.

 

She looked up and nodded. "Hello, Malfoy," she said. "Feel free to use the parchment if you want."

 

He nodded civilly and pulled a few sheets towards him, then went back to his reading.

 

Around half an hour passed while he refreshed his memory in most of the books he had collected, and then Draco was ready to rewrite the essay. It was only at that point that he realised he didn't have any of his quills with him. A quick perusal of the quills on the table showed that he couldn't use any of them.

 

Huffing to himself, he got up and looked around the library at the several small but not-well-enough-stocked writing desks, then started for the door.

 

"What are you doing?" Ron asked when Draco came back in after searching the kitchen and started wandering the library again. "Settle down, can't you?"

 

"I need a quill," said Draco, running his hands back through his hair.

 

"Oh, here," said Granger, picking one up from beside her and holding it out.

 

Draco shook his head, making no move to take it. "I can't use that," he said.

 

Her expression darkened. "Can't use a Mudblood's quill?" she said brittlely. "You sing quite a different tune when Harry's not in the room, don't you?"

 

"Don't be an idiot, Granger," Draco snapped. "I can't use any of these quills. It's nothing to do with you."

 

"Our quills aren't good enough for you?" Ron asked sarcastically.

 

"It's nothing to do with you, either," said Draco, annoyed. "You're not the centre of the universe, OK?"

 

"What's the problem, then?" Granger asked suspiciously.

 

"I need a left-handed quill."

 

Granger laughed, then noticed that neither Ron nor Ginny had shown any sign of amusement. "There's really such a thing as a left-handed quill?" she asked Ron.

 

"Sure," said Ron. "Makes a right mess if you try to write left-handed with a regular quill." He glanced around the table. "Sorry, Malfoy, nobody else here is left-handed. I don't think we have any quills you can use."

 

"Damn." Draco marked his place in the last book he had been reading and stood up. "I'll just go –" He broke off as a dull, crunching shock reverberated through the house. A vase fell off the mantel and shattered, and Ginny jumped up, dropping her book.

 

"That was not my imagination!" she cried.

 

"Okay, Ginny," said Ron. "Let's go find out what happened." 

 

He had started for the door when it burst open and Harry stuck his head in. His hair was even more on end than usual. "Sorry!" he said hurriedly. "That was me, sorry. Don't worry, though, the house is OK. Are you guys OK?"

 

"We're fine," said Draco, staring. There was a hectic flush on Harry's face. "What were you doing?"

 

"Oh, an Impediment jinx," said Harry. "It sort of got away from me."

 

"Block's gone, then?" said Ron, while Draco wondered just what he had unleashed.

 

"Seems so," said Harry. "It's weird, actually; I just woke up and it was gone. Anyway, who wants a snack? We have to take a break from training for a bit while Snape recovers."

 

"Recovers? What'd you do to him?" Ginny asked.

 

Harry blushed a bit. "Well, that Impediment jinx…it knocked him out, and now he has a migraine. He needed to take a potion and lie down for a while."

 

Ron laughed. "Good on you, Harry!" he said.

 

Granger elbowed him in the ribs. "He's a Professor, Ron," she said reprovingly.

 

"He's a greasy git," said Ron, unconcerned, and Draco scowled at him. Despite Professor Snape's nasty trick with the Imperius, the man was Draco's favourite teacher and he held him in deep respect, even more now that he knew about the Professor's true allegiance and double life.

 

"Snack time!" said Harry, seeming eager to change the subject, and the group of them headed down to the kitchen, where Granger made popcorn. It was surprisingly good with pumpkin juice.

 

Mrs Weasley, when told about Draco's quill problem, Flooed the twins. It turned out that their friend Lee Jordan, who helped in their shop, was left-handed, so they sent through a couple of left-handed quills they had had on hand for his use. Granger seized one immediately to examine.

 

The black feathers were tipped with silver, and there was a small notch above the nib. Otherwise it looked just like a regular quill. "What makes it different?" she asked.

 

"The angle of the nib, for one thing," said Draco, holding it in writing position to show her. "And the spell on it to keep the ink from smearing. That's the most important thing."

 

Granger nodded. "That's amazing. I never even thought of it," she said.

 

Draco rolled his eyes, but held back the scathing comment that had come to mind about seeing beyond one's own concerns. Harry gave him a grateful look as Granger turned back to her snack.

 

A few minutes later Dumbledore came in. "Ah, Harry. Ready to get back to work? Professor Snape will not be joining us, but I have some ideas for you."

 

"Yes, sir," said Harry, put his plate in the sink, and followed Dumbledore out. The others went back to the library and settled back to their work.

 

Draco was able to reconstruct his essay fairly quickly, so he finished it and got started on his Potions one. Granger had watched him write for a little while, but the Malfoy Eyebrow of Scorn took care of that. For Merlin's sake, they'd had classes together for five years; she'd seen him writing before. Clearly she'd not been paying him the attention he deserved.

 

Once the house got very, very cold, but they shook it off and continued working. Draco finished his Potions essay and got to work on the one for Herbology. Ginny came to the table and started writing an essay of her own, and Ron flung down his quill and wandered off to get a book.

 

"Have you finished your essay?" Granger asked him, when he returned to the table.

 

"Almost," said Ron. "I just need three more inches. I don't think I can write any bigger."

 

Draco snickered. Granger rolled her eyes.

 

"What have you got so far?" she asked, pulling the essay towards her and skimming through it. "Well, all you need is two more points of comparison between knotweed and fluxweed, and a conclusion," she said briskly. "That shouldn't be too hard."

 

"Oh, good," Ron muttered sarcastically, opening the book he'd fetched and frowning at the illustration on the first page. "How else can they be compared, anyway?" he asked, giving Granger a hopeful look.

 

"Nice try," she said calmly. "Look it up."

 

Draco looked at the essay. "You've only got colour and smell on here," he said. "Merlin, Professor Snape has been right about your essays all this time. I thought he was taking the piss."

 

"Shut up unless you have something helpful to say," said Ron, reclaiming his essay and scowling at it.

 

"How about stewing time?" Ginny suggested, looking up from her own writing. "Leaf shape?  Texture?"

 

"Brilliant!" said Ron, writing speedily. "Thanks, Gin. You're a good sister."

 

"It was a bribe so you would help me with this Divination assignment," said Ginny. "You have such a way with doom and disaster."

 

Draco laughed. Ron balled up a piece of parchment and threw it at him as he came around the table to look at Ginny's parchment.

 

Granger put down her quill and stretched. "It's almost lunchtime," she said. "Harry's usually with us by now. He must be making good progress."

 

Just as she said this, the temperature in the room soared, and the whole house shook violently on its foundations. Pictures and knickknacks crashed to the floor; furniture went sliding. Draco was dumped out of his chair onto the floor.

 

Ginny screamed as the table tipped over and pinned her leg. Ron and Draco and Granger scrambled up and struggled to heave it off her; it was a huge old mahogany thing that seemed to weigh at least a tonne.

 

The three of them managed to get the table just off Ginny's leg, and Granger dragged her clear. The leg was clearly broken; shards of bone stuck out and it was a bloody mess.

 

"What the bloody hell –" Ron began.

 

The door burst open and Lupin ran in. "Are you kids all right?" he asked, then caught sight of Ginny, sobbing on the floor in Granger's arms. "Oh, Ginny. Let me see." He crouched before her and gingerly straightened out her leg.

 

"What happened?" Ginny gasped.

 

"I'm not sure yet," said Lupin briefly, drawing his wand. "Your parents and Severus are seeing to the house's defences while I came to check on you." He ran the tip of his wand over Ginny's injury, muttering. Slowly, with a nasty sucking noise, the bone realigned and sank back under the skin. Ginny tried to muffle her scream in Granger's shoulder.

 

"What about Harry?" Draco asked, looking away as Lupin closed the wound.

 

"Albus is with him," said Lupin. "We'll know more soon." He addressed himself to Ginny. "Let's get you over to the couch and get you some Skele-Gro."

 

Ron and Draco helped Lupin set the couch upright, and then Lupin floated Ginny over to it and laid her down. Granger fussed over her, getting her an afghan and propping pillows behind her.

 

"Find out about Harry," said Ginny, when she was settled, white with pain and shock but as comfortable as spells and pillows could make her for the moment.

 

Draco followed Lupin out the door and down to the basement room where Harry was getting his training. The door was off its hinges.

 

"Harry?" he called, shoving ahead of the werewolf. "Harry, are you all right?"

 

"I'm fine," said Harry. He sounded as though he was gritting his teeth. "Professor Dumbledore fell and got a knock on the head. Here…" The door disappeared.

 

Draco and Lupin rushed in. Harry was sitting on the floor of the training room. Dumbledore was lying next to him with his head propped on Harry's lap. Even as Draco and Lupin approached, the old man's eyelids fluttered and he started to sit up.

 

"Be careful, Albus," said Lupin. "Let me check you over first."

 

Albus Dumbledore submitted to the wand scan and then conjured one of his loud squashy armchairs, where he sat when Lupin said he could get off the floor. "Harry, my boy," he said. "Are you sure you're all right?"

 

"I'm fine," said Harry shortly. He was keeping his face turned away from Draco. "Sorry about that, everyone. Was anyone hurt?"

 

"Ginny broke her leg," said Draco, wanting Harry to look at him so he could see for himself that he was all right.

 

Harry did look at him then, and Draco almost recoiled at the anger in his eyes. "Is she going to be all right?" Harry asked, still in that remote, gritted voice.

 

"L-Lupin fixed her up," Draco stammered. "Harry, what's the matter?"

 

Harry shut his eyes. "Now is not the time, Draco," he said. "I need to get hold of myself first. But then –" He opened his eyes again and skewered Draco with his gaze. "You and I are going to have a serious talk."

 

"What? Why? What's the matter?" Draco asked, realising that it was him Harry was so furious with. It felt like his belly dropped right past his feet into the floor. Harry was scary like this.

 

"Later, Draco," said Harry. "Learn to wait for what you want. I'm going to check on Ginny, if you're all right, sir," he added to Dumbledore. Dumbledore and Lupin both nodded, looking somewhat stunned, and Harry climbed to his feet and left the room, shoving Draco with his shoulder as he passed.

 


	10. Chapter 10

_Harry_

 

Harry stomped up the stairs, still seething. He could see the wafts of power escaping from him as he went, and bent as much concentration as he could on reining them back in. The rage made it difficult, but he didn't want to do any more damage than he already had.

 

 _"Learn to wait for what you want."_ That was funny. Here he'd been thanking Draco for not fucking his body, when Draco had gone right ahead and fucked with his head. Imperius! How could Draco think that would be okay?

 

Probably he had assumed Harry would never find out. Or that everyone would be so glad the block had gone that they wouldn't question it. Draco never expected his plans to go wrong, even with history not on his side.

 

A lick of power escaped, and a house-elf head on the wall transformed into a decorative plate painted with a dragon. Harry snorted. He was glad the necessity of keeping his wayward power under control required so much attention, because that meant he had none to spare for focussing on how bitterly hurt and foolish he felt. He'd trusted Draco, liked Draco – had been falling for Draco! How could he have so easily forgotten what Draco was really like? Who was always the most important person to Draco Malfoy?

 

Draco Malfoy.

 

Harry shook his head and reeled in another escaping tendril of power, opening the door of the library. Hermione jumped up from where she'd been hovering over Ginny on the couch, crying, "Harry! Oh, Harry, are you all right?"

 

"Sort of," said Harry, approaching the couch. "I'm sorry, Ginny. This is my fault." He sat down on the end of the couch, careful not to jostle her propped-up leg, and surveyed her in dismay; her face was white and drawn with pain.

 

"What do you mean, sort of?" Ron asked, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder.

 

Harry shrugged, but not hard enough to dislodge the comforting grip. "I don't really want to talk about it right now," he said. "I'm not hurt, just kind of – freaked out, I guess."

 

"But what happened?" Ginny asked.

 

He couldn't not tell her. Look what he'd done to her! "Professor Dumbledore had me doing some meditation, to get my power under control, and – and –" His voice hitched embarrassingly.

 

"And what, Harry?" Hermione prompted.

 

No. He was too ashamed of how he'd not only let himself believe that Malfoy (damned if they were first-name close any more) was trustworthy, but asked his most beloved people to believe it as well. "It got away from me," he said at last, skirting around that hideous moment of revelation, when he'd found Malfoy's Imperius in his head. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I won't let it happen again."

 

"It's okay, Harry, it was an accident," she soothed, but Harry still felt terrible.

 

"Have you had some Skele-Gro or anything?" he asked.

 

"Professor Lupin went to get some," she said, but Harry knew Remus was still down in the lab with the Professor and Malfoy. Very cautiously, he reached out with his magic and tried to picture the bone in Ginny's leg uninjured, her pain gone. He wished he knew the spell Snape had used on his wrist.

 

A hazy glow enveloped Ginny's leg, and the lines of pain on her face smoothed out. Harry cautiously pushed a tiny bit more. A moment later there was a faint snap, and he knew the healing had worked. He pulled the power back immediately, relieved that it hadn't burst out of him uncontrollably.

 

"Brilliant, mate!" said Ron. "All right, then, Gin?"

 

She smiled. "All right. Thanks, Harry."

 

"That was amazing!" Hermione chimed in. "You didn't even use your wand!"

 

Oh.

 

But he'd been so much more in control…something else to figure out, then. He wasn't up to it just now, though. He managed a smile for Ginny, and said, "Look, I'm just going to go up to my room for a while. It's been a rough morning."

 

"Want company?" Ron asked, worriedly scanning his face.

 

"No. Thanks. I just need a break," said Harry, already backing toward the door. He barely registered Ron's nod before he was out the door and running up the stairs to his room, where he warded the door and threw himself on the bed.

 

 _How stupid could he be?_ He berated himself. He'd known Draco Malfoy for five years of unrelenting hostility, but he'd taken Malfoy's seeming change of heart at face value. How could he believe it could happen just because Malfoy took a ride in Harry's world? Malfoy thought he was weak – he'd berated him for not defending himself against Uncle Vernon. He'd borrowed Harry's power and _killed_ Uncle Vernon!

 

Harry buried his head under the pillow, clutching said pillow in a white-knuckled grip. He was _not_ going to cry. For God's sake, plenty of worse things had happened to him before.

 

He had no one to blame but himself, when it came down to it. Malfoy wouldn't have been able to cast on him at all if Harry hadn't put that enhancing charm on his tongue ring. Harry had clearly seen the residue of his own power mingling with Malfoy's in the spell.

 

He'd be undoing that enhancing charm right quick, Harry decided. Maybe they should take Malfoy's wand away again too, since he'd somehow been able to cast that spell without setting off the Underage Magic monitor.

 

Except then Harry would have to say why, and that would be too humiliating.

 

Clearly Malfoy had just been trying to stay on Harry's good side all this time (and probably laughing up his sleeve, too). He did need a place to stay, after all, and if Harry fell for him he'd be more in control of his situation. And even an inexperienced partner like Harry had to be good for a basic amount of pleasure – Malfoy had come all those times, after all. Obviously, just like almost everyone in Harry's life, Malfoy only valued him for how useful he could be.

 

After a while, worn out with struggling with his emotions, Harry drifted off to sleep. His cheeks were damp, but no one was there to see, so those tears didn't count.

 

He woke hours later to a muffled banging on the door. "Harry, are you OK?" Ron was calling.

 

Harry sat up, cast a quick Scourgify on his face, and undid the ward on the door. "Sorry," he said. His voice was thick and hoarse, but he had a faint hope that Ron would attribute that to Harry's just having been asleep.

 

If he didn't, Ron kindly didn't let on. "You must've really wanted to be alone, mate," he said. "That ward was something else. Are you up for some food? It's supper time."

 

He'd expected to have lost his appetite, as he usually did when he was upset, but Harry found he was starving. Must have been all that corralling his newly accessible magic, he reasoned. "Yeah, thanks," he said, climbed out of bed, and headed for the kitchen with Ron.

 

To his relief, it was not terribly crowded. The Weasleys, including the twins, were there, and so were Remus and the Professors, but no Aurors and no extraneous Order members. Harry caught sight of Malfoy, and his eyes narrowed.

 

Malfoy looked up and smiled at him. "Feeling better, Harry?" he asked.

 

Harry flicked his wand and said, "Finite Incantatem." Malfoy yelped and there was a bright flash inside his mouth, gruesomely illuminating his skull. Harry saw the power he had put into the tongue ring come zooming back to him. The chatter at the table stopped like a snuffed candle.

 

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Snape said dangerously. "The removal of your block is no excuse for casting --"

 

Harry ignored Malfoy's hurt look. "I was uncasting," he said shortly, taking a seat as far from Malfoy as he could get and serving himself some chicken.

 

"What? Explain yourself, boy!"

 

"Severus," said Professor Dumbledore in quelling tones.

 

"Don't call me that," said Harry evenly.

 

"Harry…" said Malfoy indistinctly, looking wounded.

 

"It would be best that you explain, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore.

 

Harry swallowed a mouthful of chicken. He was the only one eating anything; everyone else was staring at either him or Malfoy. "I had put a charm on his tongue ring, which I have now taken off," he said, looking only at Professor Dumbledore.

 

"Tongue ring?" Snape roared, glaring at Malfoy, who glared back and clamped his jaws shut.

 

"The –" Hermione began, then seemed to think better of it.

 

"Why?" Malfoy asked plaintively. As if he didn't know. Although maybe he didn't; Harry hadn't said anything specific before storming off. Malfoy might think his Imperius was still undetected.

 

"It turned out to be a bad idea," said Harry, snarling at Malfoy. Malfoy looked genuinely puzzled, but as Harry's glare continued, he began to look enlightened and then a little sick. "That's all I have to say about it."

 

"I feel some clarification is in order," said Professor Dumbledore. "What charm was it, Harry?"

 

Harry shook his head. "With respect, sir, that's between him and me," he said.

 

"You were told not to go casting willy nilly when we let you keep your wand," said Snape coldly.

 

"Then you should be happy I took the charm off," snapped Harry. He was feeling way too raw for this. What had possessed him to do this in front of everybody? He could have gotten Malfoy alone after supper.

 

"Twenty points – "

 

"Severus!" interrupted Professor Dumbledore. He gave Harry a long, searching glance. Harry saw the tendril of Legilimens reaching for him and moved aside with a frown; when it followed him, he shoved it roughly back. Professor Dumbledore sat back in his chair, looking very faintly surprised. "Very well, Harry. I trust that is the end of the matter?"

 

Malfoy glowered and shook his head; Harry shrugged. "For now, anyway," he said.

 

"Then let us proceed with our meal. Excellent cooking, as usual, Molly," said Professor Dumbledore, and lifted a forkful of greens to his mouth.

 

"Just like that?" said Snape incredulously, and Harry swatted away his attempt at Legilimens as well. What the hell? Did everyone around him think he had no right to any privacy, even in his own head? He expected it of Snape, but Professor Dumbledore?

 

Conversation started up fitfully, mostly between the Weasley parents, Remus, and Professor Dumbledore, but no one spoke to Harry or to Malfoy, who ate their suppers in scowling silence. Hermione looked back and forth between them, looking almost frightened, and Ginny and Ron and the twins spent the meal glaring at Malfoy.

 

Serve him right.

 

After supper Harry stalked out of the kitchen, not at all surprised to feel Malfoy grab his elbow.

 

"Harry –" Malfoy began.

 

"Not here," Harry bit out. "Come on." He nearly dragged Malfoy upstairs to the room Malfoy had claimed, slamming the door behind them as his temper started to get the better of him again. Ruthlessly he incinerated the Extendible Ear that tried to follow under the door, and heard Hermione's scolding tones followed by retreating footsteps.

 

Swiping his wand savagely through the air, he locked and warded the door, then turned on Malfoy, who was standing very still next to the bed.

 

"You put Imperius on me," he said flatly.

 

Malfoy's eyes widened until Harry could see the whites. Wordlessly he nodded.

 

"I assume you didn't use your wand."

 

Malfoy shook his head.

 

"Anything to say, Malfoy?"

 

Malfoy winced. "What can I say? I put Imperius on you. I thought it would help get rid of the block, which clearly it did –"

 

"That's no excuse. You didn't say anything to anyone. Didn't offer your help. You just put an Unforgivable on me!" His voice cracked a little, and he shut up fast.

 

Malfoy nodded again, slowly. "It set your power free," he said, as if that would make it all right. "And you took off my charm!" he added indignantly.

 

 _Is he serious?_ "Damn straight I took off your charm," Harry shot back. "Clearly you can't be trusted with magic. You didn't even try to deflect Snape off me after your little trick with his robes."

 

"How did you know…?" Draco asked.

 

"I can see magic, Malfoy," said Harry, sneering at the way Malfoy's jaw dropped. "I can tell who's cast what spell. And I can sure as hell take my power away from you when you're using it to – to use people!"

 

"Use people? For what?" Malfoy demanded. What right did he have to get mad, Harry wondered furiously.

 

"To protect your ass from Voldemort, for one!" Harry shouted.

 

Malfoy winced again. "Well, there's no denying that one," he muttered. "But getting rid of the Dark Lord isn't just for my benefit, it's for the whole wizarding world!" he added.

 

"Are you going to try and convince me you were thinking of the greater good when you cast Imperius on me?" Harry asked coldly.

 

"Does that really matter? They benefit regardless. Everybody wins!" Malfoy spread his hands.

 

"You really don't get it, do you," Harry said. He found his anger was draining away, leaving only terrible sadness. "Y'know, Voldemort once said something to me. He said there's no such thing as right and wrong. Only power, and those too weak to take it."

 

Malfoy nodded, then caught himself at Harry's expression.

 

"Putting Imperius on me was wrong, Malfoy," said Harry. "End of story. There are all sorts of things you could have done instead, and you didn't do them."

 

"It worked!" Malfoy shouted. "Look at you, you can split the planet in half with a thought! You can _see magic_ – not even Merlin could do that! The Dark Lord doesn't stand a chance!"

 

"You didn't even try to talk to me first," said Harry wearily. He let out a choked laugh. "I trusted you – I probably would have let you do it, if you'd talked to me first."

 

Malfoy turned pale – well, paler. "What?"

 

And the anger was back. "For God's sake, Malfoy, do you think I snog people I don't trust? You really had me going." He shook his head and raked his hands back through his hair. "Not anymore."

 

"Wait, Harry –"

 

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me that anymore," said Harry. "You can stay in the house, but stay away from me."

 

"But Harry –"

 

"Stay away," Harry repeated, ripped down his wards with a thought, and fled the room.

_  
_

_Draco_

 

Draco sank back onto the bed behind him as his knees weakened at the swirl of power through the room as Harry left. He barely registered the door slamming.

 

Harry Potter had just broken up with him.

 

Why, oh why, had he cast that Imperius, Draco wondered numbly. He should have realised Harry would find out. Draco had never managed to get anything past him in all the years he'd known him. Somehow, in whatever way, Harry always won. He was always right, and Draco was always wrong.

 

The familiar sick rage began to rise as Draco thought this. Who was Harry anyway? A scrawny, Muggle-raised, sanctimonious prat, famous for something that happened to him instead of something he did. Socially inept, scruffy, half-blind…how could he compare to Draco's poise, his cunning, his perfect grooming? He couldn't, that's how!

 

But he was brave…and generous (would Draco have given himself even house room, in Harry's place?) …and so sexy it made Draco's teeth ache. And he was smarter than Draco had thought…and for Merlin's sake there were charms to correct eyesight, he didn't need to wear those horrendous glasses... _Oh, get a grip_ , Draco told himself.  Like Harry's _glasses_ were the issue right now.

 

And in this case Draco really had been wrong. The rage went down into cold unhappiness.

 

Harry would have trusted him to cast on him if he'd asked. That floored Draco. He'd been happy with the excellent way they were getting along, but he hadn't imagined Harry had let down his guard to that extent. Even though Draco had, and when that occurred to him he was more than a little shaken.

 

What was he supposed to do now? Harry had broken up with him. There would be no more stinging debates, no more scorching snog sessions, no comfortable nights in the same bed…no more morning kisses. The next human encounter Draco could look forward to was a nasty one with Professor Snape to discuss the subject of body piercing.

 

There would be no more fascinating discussions with Granger, either, or chess matches with Ron, or even verbal fencing with Ginny. Of course Harry would tell them what had happened. And really, even if he didn't, it would shortly be obvious that Draco was no longer in the Boy Who Lived's good graces.

 

Something thumped the outside wall of his room. The rain that had threatened this afternoon must have started, Draco thought listlessly. He lay back on the bed.

 

Should he just stay in his room when he wasn't working with Professor Snape? He did need to finish up one more summer homework assignment, but then there would be nothing to occupy him for the four weeks until it was time to go back to school.

 

Another thump. Draco turned on his side and looked at the window, mostly covered with curtains. Sure enough, it was streaked with rain. Perfect for his mood, Draco decided. If he were not a Malfoy, he would actually be crying, which was a mortifying thing to admit. But as long as he was being brutally honest with himself, he might as well face the fact that Harry Potter had been the most important person in his life ever since they met on the train.

 

This made him feel worse. To have Harry's attention had always been a priority – to have had his positive attention had been intoxicating. To find out that there was so much more that he liked about Harry, only to have Harry reject him _again_ – and _again_ have it be all his own fault - was nearly unbearable.

 

Something fluttered outside the window. An owl? At this hour? And who would be owling him? Draco sat up, peering at the window, and saw the flutter again. He got up and headed for the window, pulling back the curtain with one hand and reaching for the latch with the other --

 

Only to throw himself back, staring, gasping – then, when he got his breath, screaming at the top of his lungs. (He wasn't proud of this afterwards.) Turning, he bolted out the door and down the stairs, yelling for Professor Snape.

 

Everyone showed up at the foot of the stairs as he clattered down them at reckless speed. Various interrogatory cries went up, but Draco had eyes at the moment only for Harry, appearing out of the library – good, he was safe – and Professor Snape, arriving at a run from the stairs to the basement.

 

Unable to stop, Draco flew off the stairs and cannoned into Harry, knocking him flat. Frantically he struggled up, and Professor Snape grabbed his shoulders to steady him as Harry clambered to his feet.

 

"What is it, Draco?" the Professor asked, looking Draco hard in the eyes. His gaze only flicked down once; Draco's mouth was wide open as he gasped for air, but Professor Snape did not allow himself to be distracted.

 

"See a mouse?" Ron asked jokingly.

 

"I – I saw – I saw –" Draco panted.

 

"You didn't really see a mouse, did you?" Mrs Weasley said. "Oh, dear, we'll need more Pest Repellent charms –"

 

Draco shook his head. "I saw Blaise Zabini," he got out. Professor Snape's grip tightened cruelly. "On the wall outside my window. He – he –"

 

"How could he get up there? Was he on a broom or something?" Harry asked, obviously recalling their shared vision of the Dark Lord's meeting with the Zabinis.

 

"No," said Draco. "And – and I'm almost positive he was an Inferius."

 

That provoked a short scream from Mrs Weasley and shouts from almost everybody else.

 

"He was looking in your window?" Ron asked, relatively calmly.

 

Draco nodded. "He had his face plastered against it, but his eyes were all blank and empty."

 

"He couldn't have seen you," Harry said abruptly. "This place is under a Fidelius Charm."

 

Everyone looked at Professor Snape.

 

"That's true," said Professor Snape. "But something obviously attracted him to the house. Inferi are superb trackers of magical signatures, for example."  His gaze fell on Harry, who coloured.

 

"You think he tracked my power here, and he's sniffing around even though he can't see the house?" Harry demanded.

 

"Yes," said the Professor simply. "And there will be more."

 

"Fire repels them," said Mr Weasley. "We can chase him off. Then we can make some plans for the rest of the summer, in case we have to move."

 

"Meanwhile, Potter, attempt to control your magical outbursts," said Professor Snape, turning with the Weasley parents. "All of you gather in the library; it has no outside walls." The three adults started up the stairs.

 

Harry wheeled around and stomped into the library. Ginny gave Draco a curious look and followed; Draco found himself relieved to see that she'd gotten proper healing for her leg. He hadn't thought his batch of Skele-Gro would be ready until tomorrow. Granger and Ron followed, and Draco pulled himself together and went with them.

 

"There must be books on Inferi in here," said Granger, heading determinedly for the stacks. Ron rolled his eyes and followed her. There was no sign of Harry. Ginny came over to where Draco was standing next to the fireplace.

 

"What's the matter, Malfoy?" she asked, laying a hand on his arm.

 

Draco looked down into her concerned face, and gave in to impulse. "Harry broke up with me," he blurted.

 

She started. "What? What happened? Did you two have a fight?"

 

Draco hung his head, his earlier misery returning. "No, not really. I did something stupid and he called me on it."

 

She smiled a little. "Malfoy, that's the story of your relationship, isn't it?"

 

He couldn't be cheered. "This was really stupid."

 

"Does it have anything to do with him suddenly being hugely more powerful?" she asked shrewdly.

 

Draco nodded. "He told me to stay away from him," he said. Merlin, what was wrong with him? He didn't spill his troubles to other people, especially girls, Gryffindors, or Weasleys!

 

"Harry gets mad and then gets over it," she told him sympathetically. "Maybe you can talk about it when he cools down."

 

"I don't think he'll cool down from this in this lifetime," said Draco. "Anyway, we have bigger problems."

 

"Blaise was your friend, wasn't he?" she said. "I'm sorry."

 

Draco nodded, not too surprised to find that he was far more upset over losing Harry than losing Blaise, even though he'd known Blaise almost all his life. He just didn't get overly attached to people – except, apparently, Harry, for whom the rules were never the same. "He tried to beat me to the Dark Lord," he said aloud. "When, you know, I thought I was going to... And he tried to use me to do it. And then he tried to kill Harry…" he choked, cleared his throat, and concluded, "We weren't so much friends anymore."

 

"Okay." She peered into the stacks, from whence Granger's and Ron's voices could be heard. "Harry must be back there, too."

 

Draco shrugged. "I guess."

 

She patted his arm. "Harry doesn't give up on people," she said. "You might have to grovel, but I'm sure things can be okay again."

 

"Malfoys don't grovel," he said in haughty tones, but she only laughed and patted his arm again.

 

Ginny went off to help Granger with her book collecting. Draco stayed by the fire, even when Granger ensconced herself and the others – including Harry – at the table and they all began scanning the books. He already knew more than he wanted to about Inferi. And he wasn't totally unaffected by Blaise's death; they had been friends a long time before everything changed this summer.

 

After about an hour, Mrs Weasley brought in mugs of hot cocoa and told them to drink it and then go up to bed. The others did as she said, but although Draco gratefully drank the cocoa, which was delicious, he remained in the library long after the others had gone away. Harry didn't even look at him.

 

Draco really did not want to go back into that room. The very thought made his spine creep. As a Malfoy, he was of course not scared, but finding one of your oldest friends turned Inferius hovering outside your bedroom window when you had just been dumped by the first lover to touch your emotions was not conducive to restful sleep. Maybe he'd just lie down on the couch in here.

 

In the end, that's what he did. Professor Snape came in and found him, but Draco pretended to be asleep. He didn't know if the Professor was fooled, but he did go away again, and Draco resumed staring into the fire.

 

Maybe he should have let the Dark Lord have him. Surely it wouldn't hurt as much as this.


	11. Chapter 11

_Harry_

 

Harry was not at all surprised when he couldn't sleep. It had been a highly upsetting day, and after all, he had slept for a good portion of it already. He lay in bed, staring in the direction of the ceiling and listening to Ron's snores. Every time he heard the house creak, or some other noise outside, he tensed more, wondering if it heralded more Inferi. That sure didn't help him relax either.

 

Somewhat against his will, he wondered if Malfoy was all right alone in his room. That had to have been a nasty shock. Perhaps close to the sort of shock you get when discovering the person you'd been snogging had cast an Unforgivable Curse on you?

 

Maybe not. But maybe close.

 

A lick of power tried to escape, and Harry reeled it back in. There was no point in making himself any more of a target than he already was.

 

He didn't want to think about Malfoy any more. It was too depressing. So instead he turned his mind inward, towards his magical core. He'd dropped the meditation Professor Dumbledore had recommended pretty sharpish when he discovered the Imperius Curse and broke it. He might as well work on getting his magic under control now, since he clearly wasn't going to sleep anytime soon, even though his heart was so tired. Why did every development of his life nowadays have to have a hidden spike in it?

 

It was harder to find the proper focus than it had been earlier – no surprise there. Little zips of power kept darting past him towards the outside world; he grabbed them and dragged them in with him as he went. He reached his core sooner than he expected, his arrival heralded by a wash of heat and electric tingles. He was suddenly reminded of his first year, and the first time he had used magic deliberately. He remembered the thrill of that feeling. It spangled through him again now, lifting his mood and making him eager to explore the new possibilities he could feel opening up before him.

 

He spent a long time submerged in this ocean of power, no longer afraid of its depth and strength, getting used to its feel and its rhythms. Soon he was moving gently in tandem with its pulses, finding that the stray bits wove easily back into the whole, and the whole merged with his entire being, a steady warm current that centred him without effort. Feeling so much better (although not even remotely tired), he allowed his mind to surface and opened his eyes.

 

They immediately widened with wonder. He could now see the haze of spells on the walls, and the faint shadows of the wards on the outside of the house. He could see the pattern of the ward he'd put on the door and even the fitting spells he'd put on Ron's jeans, which lay discarded on the floor.

 

Ron snorted and snuffled, then moaned, "'Mione…"

 

Harry grinned. Then the grin melted into slight alarm as Ron's breathing picked up and he continued to make little moaning noises. "Silencio," Harry whispered, pointing a forefinger at his friend. He saw the spell dart from his finger and form a net over Ron's bed, and Ron's sounds cut off abruptly.

 

This was _cool_.

 

He wondered suddenly if he could wander through the house the way Dra – Malfoy obviously had, out of his body. That would be _seriously_ cool. He wondered how you went out of your body in the first place.

 

He lay back and thought about that, and then summoned up a picture of the hallway outside his room. He made it as detailed as he could, and then tried to send just his thoughts there. He immediately found himself out there physically as well as mentally; he hadn't even felt it when he'd crossed the ward on the door.

 

He blew his bangs off his forehead in frustration and went back into the room through more conventional means – still without even feeling the ward – and tried again, pushing his thoughts more slowly and gently to avoid the wrench that would move his body as well. Nothing happened at all that time or the several other times he tried. Finally, he got grumpily out of bed to go down to the library and see if he could find a spell to do it.

 

There were lights and voices still coming from the parlour, so he slunk by there with all the stealth he could muster, missing his Invisibility Cloak something fierce. A Marauder's Map would have come in handy as well, he mused, then started as Remus came out of the parlour and spotted him.

 

"Everything all right, Harry?" Remus asked, smiling at him. "Nice pyjamas, by the way."

 

Harry ran one hand down the green silk sleeve (the blood had come out nicely) and said, "Thanks. I'm fine. I, uh, just wanted something to read. I can't sleep."

 

"Zabini is gone," said Remus with a concerned frown. "And there weren't any other Inferi around. We've put up a fire ward as well."

 

He'd seen it. Just as he could see the shadow of the wolf in Remus's aura now. "I slept a lot today. I'm just not tired."

 

Remus smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't pick anything too Dark," he said. "Good night, Harry." He went upstairs.

 

"Night," said Harry, and continued towards the library. As he reached for the door, it opened and Snape came out, face unreadable.

 

"Don't go in there, Potter," he said brusquely.

 

Harry scowled. "It's my library."

 

"Don't be childish. It’s nearly midnight," said Snape. "You'll be working hard tomorrow. Go to bed."

 

Harry blinked away from realising that the charm on Snape's hair was not a Glamour, but meant to hold his hair together and keep it from shedding, and said, "I'm getting a book." He started around the dour Professor.

 

Who caught his arm. "Mr Malfoy is asleep in there," he said coldly. "He has had an upsetting day; you will not disturb him."

 

" _He's_ had –" Harry cut himself off; Snape didn't know about the Imperius (and would likely approve if he did), but he did know Zabini had been Malfoy's friend. "I won't wake him," Harry said after a moment. Snape gazed piercingly into his eyes for a moment – Harry pushed off a brush of Legilimens; did the man have no manners? – and let him go.

 

The library was dim and quiet. Harry saw numerous spells on the shelves and on the books themselves – security and preservation mostly, he supposed. He saw the huddled shape on the couch in front of the fire and moved away from there, into the stacks.

 

It was mighty dark in there. Harry drew his wand and cast Lumos. Instantly a bright white light beamed forth, lighting up the whole library so harshly that Harry's eyes closed involuntarily; it was like looking directly into the sun.

 

"Wha --?" came the voice from the couch.

 

"Dammit. Finite Incantatem," said Harry, then raised his voice. "Sorry, Malfoy. Just getting a book. Go back to sleep."  He blinked afterimages from his vision, hoping Malfoy would take the hint, he was the subtle Slytherin, after all.

 

But no. Footsteps heralded Malfoy's arrival at the corner of a nearby bookcase. "What are you doing?"

 

Harry gritted his teeth, determined not to feel sorry for the other boy. He was sure Malfoy was unaware of the tear tracks gleaming on his face in the muted light from the lamp at the end of the bookcase. "I'm just getting a book," he repeated.

 

Malfoy smirked and folded his arms. "Lumos got away from you?"

 

"Obviously."

 

"Perhaps you need a book of first-year spells, then."

 

_God, what a git._ "Spells, yes," said Harry, moving along the row to the next case and squinting at the titles there. Ah, that looked good: _Useful Spells for All Occasions_. He pulled the book down and turned. "Good night, Malfoy."

 

Malfoy was watching him solemnly. "Be careful," he said, and turned and went back to the couch.

 

Harry shook his head and left the library. He obviously couldn't study in there.

 

After some consideration, he ended up in the parlour, now vacant. The couch was comfortable and the light good, and the heavy drapes were drawn securely across the window. The sound of the rain was peaceful in here rather than threatening as he opened the book.

 

It was well organised, with simpler spells toward the beginning, growing more complicated toward the back. Harry flipped to the back and found a healing spell for use only as a very last resort, when someone was nearly dead. He made a mental note to check it out later and turned back to the front.

 

The section on Lumos had some good information. He discovered how to do "Lumos Minima," for a nightlight-level spell, and of course "Lumos Maxima."  The Maxima spell wasn't supposed to produce a light as bright as he had just done in the library, but it produced a good strong light when he tried it without his wand. He tried Lumos Minima with his wand and got a slightly-brighter-than-ordinary Lumos, and the tiny glow in his palm when he tried it without.

 

This was a disturbing trend. Clearly he needed to work more on control with his wand. He decided Lumos Minima was a good spell to practise with, and set himself to it, watching carefully as he cast the spell.

 

Two hours of unrelenting concentration had him partially successful. He could see the spell pass from his hand into his wand, and see that the wand was doing something to amplify it. He tried to work on regulating the amount of power he put into the spells, but that was harder than he had thought. He decided after a while that the wand was supposed to do the regulating, but his wasn't for some reason.

 

It was now nearly three in the morning, and he was tired. He took the book and headed upstairs, stopping short when he got to his room; there was a white T shirt hanging on the doorknob.

 

Argh! Well, he sure wasn't going in there now. He just hoped Ron and Hermione weren't minding the silencing spell on Ron. Meanwhile, where could he go? Not Draco's room. There were no more unoccupied rooms on this floor. Sighing, he went back down to the parlour. Fortunately, the couch was very comfortable. He was asleep in minutes, snuggled under an afghan.

 

Distantly, towards morning, he felt something tearing at his Occlumency shields, and shored them up. The presence faded again, and Harry returned to his dream, which for once was a pleasant one. He was dreaming of Draco, and the afternoon they'd spent playing Quidditch in the ballroom.

 

"Harry…"  Draco was saying.

 

"Yeah?" Harry asked, turning his broomstick to face the other boy.

 

"You need to get going," said Draco, smiling at him. He flew closer and reached out, putting an arm around Harry in a quick, affectionate hug. "I'll see you later."

 

Harry hugged back. He did like the way Draco smelled. "Later."

 

"Harry!"  That voice was sharp and worried, and not Draco's. Harry opened his eyes and found Hermione bending over him. "Harry, are you all right?"

 

"I'm fine," said Harry, and he couldn't help it; he smirked. "How about you? Sleep well?"

 

She blushed. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "We didn't think…"

 

Harry sat up, grinning. "It's fine; I was comfortable down here."

 

She glanced away, and her eyes lit on the book he had been using. She picked it up. "Looking for new spells?" she asked, flipping pages.

 

"Old ones, actually," said Harry, running his hands through his hair. "I'd better go up and get dressed."

 

Hermione blushed again and let him go. Harry left the book with her and headed up to his room.

 

Ron was just stirring when he came in. "Where've you been, mate?" he tried to ask, but no sound came out of his mouth. He pointed to himself and raised his brows.

 

"Finite Incantatem. Sorry. Downstairs," said Harry, getting out of his pyjamas. "I didn't think you and Hermione wanted my company last night."

 

Ron blushed even brighter than Hermione had. "Oh. Uh, sorry. I sort of thought you were with Malfoy, especially when he didn't come slinking in for the morning snogfest."

 

Harry scowled at the inside of his T shirt. "That won't be happening anymore," he said when he had pulled it all the way on.

 

"Why not?" Ron asked, sitting up. He scowled suddenly. "What did he do?"

 

Harry found he couldn't meet Ron's eyes. He'd defended Malfoy to Ron, after all, and then this had happened. "Never mind. I took care of it."

 

"That's why you took the spell off his tongue ring, isn't it?" said Ron, getting out of bed and going for his clothes. "He cast something on you, didn't he? I'll kill him."

 

"No, I mean, yes, he did cast something on me, but I found it and broke it," said Harry. "Don't kill him, it's not worth it."

 

Ron really could be good at putting pieces together. "He tried to Imperio you," he said in deadly tones. "It is so worth it. I am going to kill him!" He headed for the door.

 

Harry jammed his foot into his second trainer and chased after him, slightly relieved that he was heading for Malfoy's room, where Harry knew Malfoy wasn't, rather than the stairs. "Ron! I don't want you to get in trouble! He didn't succeed, I broke the spell. I dealt with him myself! Come on!"

 

Ron stopped. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. "Who does he think he is?" he ground out. "It's because of you he even has a place to be, after his dad threw him to V – You-Know-Who."

 

"Believe me, I am well aware of that," said Malfoy from the bottom of the stairs. Ron and Harry spun to face him. He looked at Harry and said quietly, "Good morning." Then, as Ron started towards him, he turned and headed for the kitchen. He was joined by Professor Snape before Ron could catch up with him. Harry trailed in after Ron and found all the house's occupants already there, along with Professor Dumbledore.

 

"Ah, good morning, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore. "How are you feeling today?"

 

"Better, sir," said Harry, taking some porridge and studying it intently, rather than looking up and meeting Malfoy's eyes. Malfoy was seated directly across from him.

 

"You did an excellent job Healing Ginny," said Remus. "I checked her over, and there's no sign of the break."

 

"Yeah, thanks, Harry," said Ginny. "I won't even have a scar."

 

Harry shrugged and gave her a little smile. "It was my fault; it was the least I could do," he said.

 

"We'll be working on spell casting again this morning," said Professor Dumbledore. "I understand you had a visitation last night. Have there been further developments?"

 

Malfoy winced and studied his own porridge.

 

"We put up a flame ward," said Mr Weasley. "No more Inferi seem to have come near the house after that one was driven off. I don't think we need to leave the house just yet."

 

"I agree," said Snape. "As long as Mr Potter can get himself under control, we should be safe here for the remainder of the summer."

 

"I've made some progress with that," said Harry, eagerly drinking tea. He was still sleepy, but he knew the two Professors would have no mercy on him in practise.

 

"Good," said Professor Dumbledore, twinkling at him. Harry saw a tendril of Legilimens start across the table towards him, and shoved it back, perhaps a little harder than he meant to, but he was irritated. Why did the Professor keep doing that? Professor Dumbledore rocked back in his chair and frowned a little, but said nothing.

 

"We should be able to finish our homework today," said Hermione.

 

"I will require Mr Malfoy's presence in my laboratory this morning," said Professor Snape. Malfoy nodded. "Lupin will be working with you, Potter."

 

Remus smiled at Harry and said, "I'm looking forward to seeing your spell work in action, Harry."

 

"Well, on that note, let's get to it," said Professor Dumbledore, rising from the table. Harry gulped more tea, abandoned his toast, and followed him down to the practise room.

 

_Draco_

 

Thank Salazar _and_ Merlin that Professor Snape had commandeered his company today, Draco thought. He didn't fancy his chances of surviving a library study session unscathed. Ron obviously knew now what had happened with Harry, and would surely lose no time informing Ginny and Granger.

 

Harry himself had gone back to treating Draco with that infuriating indifference, as if all their growing closeness had never happened. Draco wondered how he could just shut it off like that – maybe he hadn't been as involved as Draco had thought, as Draco himself was?  Draco was feeling decidedly wrong-footed this morning, not least because of having not had his morning snog. Harry, on the other hand, seemed fine.

 

It was interesting how the teachers were relating to Harry with his newly-accessed power. You could practically see Dumbledore rubbing his hands together and chortling in glee. Lupin seemed more optimistic than before, while Professor Snape seemed to be the only person with some concerns about how Harry was going to control all that power so it would do some good – and also fail to attract any more Inferi. Draco was worried about that too, especially after the house-shaking Harry had subjected them to and the never-to-be-forgotten sight of Blaise's blank face staring in the window.

 

Harry followed Lupin and Dumbledore out of the room, and Ron took the opportunity to glare down the table at Draco and say, "I know what you did, Malfoy."

 

Draco sighed, as Professor Snape and the Weasley parents looked at him with varying degrees of inquiry. "I know you do, Weasley." He didn't figure he was welcome to keep calling Weasley by his first name after this.

 

"What?" asked Granger, looking from one to the other.

 

"None of your business, Granger," Draco snapped.

 

Mistake.

 

Weasley held his eyes and opened his big, fat mouth. "He used that charm to cast Imperius on Harry."

 

"How dare you!" shrieked Mrs Weasley. Draco flinched at the volume and shrillness of her tone.

 

"It was for his own good," he said, then wondered why he even bothered when he was met with various expressions of disbelief around the table, even from Professor Snape. Only Ginny looked at him with a modicum of understanding, but she was angry, too.

 

"I see what you mean about really stupid," she murmured. "Really, Draco."

 

Draco jumped to his feet. "I've been through this with Ha – Potter," he said. "I'm not going to rehash it with you people. I did it for his own good, and that's all I'm going to say on the subject."

 

"No, it isn't," said Professor Snape also rising. "But I feel that we need to continue this discussion in private. Come, Mr Malfoy."  And he swept out of the room. Reluctantly, Draco followed him, hearing the outbreak of shouting in the kitchen behind him as he went.

 

He was never going to be able to make this up to Harry, he reflected gloomily, following Professor Snape down to the potions lab. Harry's training room was next door, and even without his wand Draco could feel the wards on it.

 

"Start a cauldron of Hair-Growing Solution," said Professor Snape, waving his wand to slam the potion lab's door behind Draco. "You may as well be useful while we talk." He himself lifted a perfectly enormous cauldron onto the worktop and went over to the shelves of ingredients.

 

Silently Draco set up his own cauldron, collected his ingredients, and started the potion. Professor Snape started his own potion – Draco didn't recognise it – and when he seemed to come to a simmering point he put down his stirring rod and pinned Draco with a piercing black gaze.

 

"And now, Mr Malfoy," he said. "You will explain to me, both what you were thinking, casting Imperius on Mr Potter, and what you were thinking to allow yourself to be caught."

 

Draco gulped. "It was an impulse," he admitted, unable to prevaricate in the face of that stare. "The night of P – Potter's birthday party."

 

Professor Snape looked enlightened. "Ah, his amazing surge of power the next day," he said. "You removed his block?"

 

Draco nodded. "He needs all the power he can get," he explained earnestly. "The Dark Lord hasn't a chance against him now!"

 

"That remains to be seen," said Professor Snape quellingly. "A great deal of power under imperfect control is more dangerous to the caster than his opponents. And I assure you, the Dark Lord is in complete control of his own power. Why Imperius? And what is this charm Weasley mentioned?"

 

"Potter put an enhancing charm on my tongue ring," said Draco reluctantly. "By accident I found that it allowed me to cast spells wandlessly –" He had to break off to stir his cauldron and add a few ingredients. By the time he looked up again, Professor Snape was regarding him with a bit more anger than before.

 

"You cast the spell on my robes," the Professor said, in terrifyingly even tones.

 

Draco gulped.

 

"You sabotaged the dignity of Slytherin and disrespected your Head of House. For that you will be cleaning the lab today, without magic, of course," said Professor Snape. "We will be making several batches of Bruise Salve today."

 

Draco groaned to himself. The residue of Bruise Salve tended to set like cement in a cauldron, given the least opportunity. He had no doubt it would be given that opportunity today.

 

"Continue," said the Professor.

 

"Harry was – more relaxed than usual that night," said Draco.

 

"Drunk and shagged out," the Professor sniffed.

 

Boggling slightly at the term "shagged out" coming from his dour Professor, Draco went on. "His shields were spongy. I took the opportunity."

 

"It is common knowledge that Potter can resist Imperius," said Professor Snape, stirring his cauldron eight times in a figure of eight.

 

"I had never had that confirmed, and figured it was worth a try," said Draco. "I was – not thinking as clearly as usual."

 

"You got drunk in the presence of Gryffindors?" Professor Snape said silkily.

 

"Not drunk, no, sir," said Draco. "But it was very late at night."

 

"Indeed. And you were found out almost immediately," said Professor Snape.

 

"I buried the command. I don't know how he found it so fast," said Draco defensively.

 

"It didn't occur to you that he would be doing a certain amount of meditating in an effort to gain control of this sudden rush of power?"

 

Draco bowed his head. "No, sir."

 

"Your behaviour is a disgrace to Slytherin," said Professor Snape calmly. "You have endangered yourself, as well. This is Potter's house; the Headmaster will agree to any changes he might wish to make in those who are welcome here. And then what would you do?"

 

"He already said I could stay," said Draco in a small voice.

 

"You are fortunate in his generosity. The Dark Lord had plans for you, Draco, and would still like to get his hands on you. You would not like those plans."

 

Draco stirred his potion. "Yes, sir," he whispered.

 

Professor Snape scattered some kind of leaves over the surface of his potion and set it to simmer some more. Immediately he set up a cauldron for Bruise Salve, and Draco winced. It was also quite a big cauldron.

 

"How do you plan to alleviate the situation?" the Professor asked as he began mashing frog brains.

 

"I'm not sure yet, sir," said Draco. "Do you have any advice?"

 

"Has Potter asked anything of you?"

 

"Just to - stay away from him," said Draco sadly.

 

"Then you will do as he asks. We will be very busy finishing up the potion supplies for the coming school year in any case," said Professor Snape. "Have you finished your summer homework?"

 

"Almost," said Draco. "I have one more essay to finish, for Care of Magical Creatures, and then I'm done."

 

"Finish it today. Then hold yourself at my disposal," ordered the Professor.

 

"Maybe I can help think of ways for Harry to use his power," Draco suggested. "Against the Dark Lord, or the Inferi…"

 

Professor Snape gave him a sharp glance. "If you come up with any ideas, tell me first. You have an appalling habit of not thinking things through. In fact, as punishment for this situation with Potter, I want an essay from you. Five feet on the subject of planning ahead when dealing with an alliance and what happens when plans are poorly made, with historical examples."

 

Draco groaned, but only to himself. It could have been worse, he knew. He decanted his Hair-Growing Solution into phials, and set up a cauldron for Dreamless Sleep. He and Professor Snape worked in silence for the rest of the morning and far into the afternoon.

 

Eventually Mrs Weasley tapped on the door and asked if they would like something to eat. Despite her cold look at him, Draco nearly embraced her. He was starving.

 

"Yes, thank you," said Professor Snape, unhurriedly putting a Stasis Charm on his cauldron and ignoring Draco's. "We will be up shortly."

 

She nodded and left. Draco continued to stir his current potion; if he stopped now, the thing would separate into its component liquids and be ruined. He wondered if his body was also trying to devour its component parts, he was so hungry. He hadn't been able to eat much breakfast.

 

At last the stirring was done and the potion could be left to simmer. Draco followed the Professor up to the kitchen. There were two plates laid out, generously filled with food, but no one else in the kitchen. Draco made himself approach his plate with dignity instead of lunging like a starving wolf, but it was a near thing.

 

After they ate, they returned to the lab, where Draco decanted his latest potion into phials. Then Professor Snape told him to go up and finish his last school essay.

 

Draco went to the library with lagging steps. He really didn't want to run into anyone else. On the way, he passed the ballroom door, and heard voices. Very carefully opening the door a crack, he beheld Harry careering through the air on his broomstick, hotly pursued by Ginny. Weasley was hovering nearby with another Bludger-sized apple, and Granger was seated in a chair, cheering enthusiastically.

 

Draco closed the door, fiercely swallowing the lump that rose to his throat, and proceeded to the library and his essay.

 

At supper, he sat as far away from Harry as the table would allow, and never looked up from his plate. Nobody tried to talk to him, either. Afterward, bone tired and depressed, he headed up to his room.

 

Alas, Weasley caught up to him before he got there. "Malfoy!"

 

"Weasley," said Draco, lifting his chin. He was not going to cower before this ginger sidekick.

 

Weasley arrived and seized his arm in a crushing grip. "I'm sure you remember the little chat we had," he growled, "when I told you what would happen if you hurt Harry." Without further words, he drove a fist into Draco's gut.

 

Draco reeled back, gasping, and brought up a knee into Weasley's privates. Weasley was too tall for him to do enough damage, however, and hit Draco in the face. Draco twisted down and savagely bit the hand holding his arm, drawing blood. Then he set into Weasley with all the ferocity of his current emotional turmoil.

 

They staggered from one side of the hallway to the other, shouting and hitting and kicking and, in Draco's case, biting. Draco managed to do a respectable amount of damage, but he was in pretty bad shape himself now and trying desperately to think of some way to get away and into his (lockable) room, when they were both doused in a shower of cold water.

 

Gasping, they separated. Lupin was standing there with his wand out. "That'll be enough, boys," he said sternly.

 

Granger came running up behind him, took one look at them and said, "Oh, Ron." Her tone was half censure, half sympathy, and she promptly took Weasley's arm and steered him down the hall and into his room.

 

Draco stood there gasping, bleeding from the nose, bent over at the waist. Both eyes were throbbing, as were his jaw and his gut. He thought he had some loose teeth, too.

 

Lupin surveyed him in silence for a few minutes, and then sighed and said, "Come on, Draco." He didn't take Draco's arm, but walked with him to his room and followed him in. "Have a seat, and I'll see what I can do."

 

"Thanks," Draco croaked. "Um – where's everybody else?"

 

"Down in the kitchen still," said Lupin. "Trying to make Harry talk about you."

 

Draco winced, both at this and at the prod of Lupin's wand on his sore jaw.

 

"So," said Lupin, Healing Draco's broken nose, "what's this about 'for his own good'?"

 

"I broke his block," said Draco. "He wasn't making any progress on his own. I was just trying to help. He needs that power!"

 

Lupin shook his head and Healed Draco's left eye. "Not your finest idea," he opined.

 

"I am aware," said Draco bitterly.


	12. Chapter 12

_Harry_

 

"Subdued" was not a look Malfoy wore well, in Harry's opinion. Also, it made Harry nervous. He'd never known Malfoy to be without a plan, or at least an idea, but now he had no idea what Malfoy was thinking. For the last two weeks, he had avoided Harry – even more than he avoided Ron, which had made Harry suspect that Ron had taken some things into his own hands, although he wouldn't talk about it – just as Harry had requested.

 

And Harry missed him.

 

He didn't like that he missed him, but it was undeniable. His mornings were awfully flat without the morning snog. Ginny was nowhere near the Seeker Malfoy was, so the games in the ballroom (and Harry did not forget that those had been Malfoy's idea to begin with) were a little less fun, a little less of a challenge than the first ones. Nobody disagreed with him about the ethical applications of invasive Healing procedures when he wrote his essay for Potions.

 

And he didn't like having to remind himself to think of Draco as "Malfoy."

 

He was sitting in the library, doodling on what should be his Transfiguration essay, when Ginny came to call him for tea.

 

"What's the matter?" she asked him.

 

He shrugged. "Nothing. Just hit a blank spot."

 

She examined the speeding Snitches chased by stick-figure Seekers now adorning his essay. "Want to play Quidditch later?"

 

He shrugged again. "Maybe."

 

She sat down and looked him in the eye. "Come on, Harry. What's going on? You've been brooding for a week and a half now." She tilted her head. "Is it Malfoy? Did he do something else?"

 

"No!" Harry burst out. "He hasn't done anything!  It's giving me the creeps. I keep waiting for his elaborate plan of revenge to unfold."

 

Ginny laughed. "You're the one who told him to leave you alone."

 

"Yeah, but since when does he listen to me?"

 

"Since you own his safe house?" she suggested, and Harry shrugged again, a little angrily.

 

"He doesn't think that," he said. "Of course he knows I'm not going to throw him to the Death Eaters."

 

"Really? Are you sure?"

 

"He's mocked me for my 'saving people thing' for five years," said Harry in exasperation. "He's always been able to predict me, especially in a situation like this."

 

She shrugged too. "If you say so. He seems kind of scared to me. And depressed."

 

"Well, he didn't get to have everything his own way," said Harry, but he heard the lack of conviction in his own voice.

 

"I think he misses you," said Ginny. "He was really upset the night you – found out. Told me he'd done something really stupid and he didn't think you'd ever forgive him."

 

"The curse was an Unforgivable," said Harry. "And he didn't even try to apologise."

 

"Did you give him a chance?"

 

"Yes! All he said was he did it for my own good!"

 

"Well, that's what he told us, too. And he did get rid of your block. Maybe he thought you'd appreciate it."

 

"How could he think I would appreciate Imperius?" Harry demanded. "Are you on his side now?"

 

"I'm on the side of you being happy," she said sharply. "You were happy with him. And I admit I feel kind of sorry for him."

 

"He's a snake," muttered Harry.

 

"You get along with snakes," said Ginny. "Just give it some thought. He probably didn't. He was drinking that night, too, remember? Just because he didn't get as pissed as you did doesn't mean he was at his sharpest. And come on, everyone's waiting for tea."

 

Harry followed her to the kitchen, mulling all this over. He couldn't help thinking that if Mal – Draco – would actually apologise, Harry would forgive him. For casting an Unforgivable. He worried that this made him foolish, or weak. But he missed Draco, and he could kind of see his point, too. And Ginny's, about the drinking.

 

Draco was in fact at the table, looking tired and avoiding Harry's gaze. He ate cheddar scones with a gloomy air and responded in monosyllables to Professor Snape's few remarks in his direction. No one else acknowledged his presence.

 

Harry didn't like it. Draco looked beaten. It was unnatural.

 

He cleared his throat. "So, Malfoy, what have you been up to?" he asked. His heart jumped into his throat in response to the universal gobsmacked looks from around the table. Everyone stared at him except Professor Snape, who carried on eating as though Harry hadn't made a sound.

 

Draco's head jerked up, his eyes wide. "Um –" he started.

 

"Don't talk to him, Harry!" snapped Ron. "He's just a lying snake."

 

Malfoy gritted his teeth and then sneered his most effective sneer at Ron. Perhaps the tea table had not been the best place to try and reconnect, Harry thought.

 

"Ron," he said, trying for patience, because he knew Ron was just being protective. "I'll talk to him if I want. He's living in my house."

 

"Just don't believe a word he says," said Ron, going back to his food.

 

"So, um, Malfoy? What have you been up to?" Harry repeated, looking over at Draco.

 

Draco curled his lip. "Brewing poisons," he said coolly.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. "With Professor Snape? Pull the other one."

 

"As it happens, he's right," said Professor Snape, nevertheless aiming a quelling look at Draco's sulky face. "We've been brewing cleaning solutions today, and they are indeed poisonous."

 

"Oh." Well, now what? Well, he was a Gryffindor…  "Look, Malfoy, can I talk to you after tea?"

 

Draco looked at Professor Snape, who nodded very faintly. "Sure," he answered, then immediately ducked his head and returned to doctoring his tea.

 

"Harry, are you sure you know what you're doing?" Hermione whispered.

 

"Yes," Harry said firmly, although this was not _quite_ true.

 

"How do you know he won't try something else?" Ron hissed.

 

"Come on, Ron. He was the one who made me more powerful than everybody here put together. He _can't_ cast anything on me; I'll see it coming," said Harry.

 

"You'll _see?_ – whatever," said Ron, pulling back and turning away. "Guess you must know best, then, yeah?"

 

Dammit! Did Ron and Hermione have to question every move he made? He didn't want to gain Draco only to lose Ron, as if he had some sort of quota of friends at any given time.

 

"Sorry," he said. "That came out wrong. But give me a break, Ron."

 

Ron shrugged.

 

Ginny poked her brother. "Give it a rest, Ron," she said, not bothering to lower her voice. Ron gave her a betrayed look. "This isn't fourth year."

 

Ron looked at Harry, and nodded. "Okay, mate. But be careful."

 

"Like I could do anything to him," said Draco, sneering again.

 

"Everybody knows that, Malfoy," said Ron, sneering right back. "Doesn't mean he should just let you back in."

 

"I think the rest of this conversation should be between Harry and Malfoy," said Hermione sternly. "Professor, do you think we'll get our OWL results soon?" she asked Snape.

 

"Any day now, I'm sure," he said indifferently.

 

The conversation died after that, and Harry finished his tea in record time. He looked up and found Draco watching him, so he jerked his head in invitation and left the table. Draco followed him out of the kitchen and up to the parlour in silence.

 

Harry put up silencing charms with his wand. Not a single sound vibration would be getting out of that room. Then he turned to Draco, who was watching him with a neutral expression, and realised he had no idea what to say.

 

The silence lengthened while Harry tried to think of something. The clock ticking on the mantel seemed very loud. After a little while Draco arched a brow and said, "Did you want something, Potter?"

 

"How are you doing?" Harry blurted, and felt his face turning red.

 

"All right," said Draco with a quizzical look. "How about you?"

 

"Oh…you know…"  Harry shrugged.

 

"Getting things under control?" Draco asked, and then looked as if he wished he hadn't said anything.

 

"Yeah, actually," said Harry, and saw the look of relief at his mild tone. "I've been doing a lot better lately. I even headed off an Inferius before it could find the house last night." They'd had a few more Inferi at the house before he'd gotten his act together; Professor Dumbledore had seriously considered relocating everyone for the remainder of the summer.

 

"Well done," said Draco. "Ah – was it --?"

 

"I couldn't tell if it was Blaise," said Harry, once he puzzled out what Draco was trying to ask. "I'm sorry about him."

 

Draco looked down at his feet, frowning, and nodded. The silence descended again. Harry wondered frantically what else he could (or should) say; what did he even want from Draco now?

 

"I'm sorry," said Draco suddenly, looking up and directly into Harry's eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have cast that spell – any spell – on you without you knowing."

 

That was what he wanted, Harry realised. A sign that Draco knew that what he'd done was wrong, and an apology.

 

"I won't say it's okay," he said carefully. "But I think I understand what you were thinking."

 

"Good, then," said Draco, and looked away.

 

They stood there awkwardly for a few more minutes. Then Draco made a move towards the door, and Harry took down the wards. Draco paused on his way out and said, "Are we friends?"

 

"I don't know," said Harry honestly. "Maybe."

 

Draco's lip quirked. "No chance of a snog, I suppose?"

 

Harry rolled his eyes. "No," he said. "I think it'll be awhile before we're at that point."  Although it was a shame; Draco did smell awfully good.

 

Draco nodded and went out the door. Harry left a few minutes later, and was unsurprised to find Ron, Hermione, and Ginny lying in wait for him in the hallway.

 

"You okay, mate?" Ron asked, worriedly checking him over.

 

"I'm fine," said Harry, putting up with this.

 

"Are you sure it's wise to get involved with him again, Harry?" Hermione fretted.

 

"We're not looking to get married, for God's sake," Harry snapped. Then, "Sorry. But come on, Hermione; give me a little credit here."

 

"So, did he apologise?" Ginny asked bluntly, while Hermione was still gaping.

 

"Yeah, he did," said Harry.

 

"Are you still mad at him?" she asked.

 

"Yeah," said Harry. "But…less mad. He meant well –"

 

"Harry! He cast Imperius on you!" Hermione interrupted.

 

"Yes, I know, Hermione. He went behind my back with what he thought was a great idea to help me…would _you_ call that unforgivable?"

 

A tide of red swept her face. "N – no, of course not –"

 

"Then please let me decide how mad to be, okay?"

 

"You can't blame us for being worried," said Ron.

 

"No, I know. But I'd rather you guys trusted me to deal with all this _myself_. I'm not a child." Ron looked away from Harry's glare, and Harry sighed. "Let's go play Quidditch."

 

And Harry resolutely played Quidditch until suppertime, glad for the distraction but still wondering if perhaps Draco could play next time. Maybe they could be friends again, after all.

 

_Draco_

 

Harry sat next to Draco at supper, and Draco couldn't help sending Weasley a smug look. Professor Snape actually allowed a spark of surprise to show in his eyes, and Draco turned the smug look on him, only to have it suppressed by the Professor's coldly raised brow. Then Draco noticed that Ginny had noticed the exchange and was laughing at him.

 

Still, he was in too good a mood to be upset. Harry had forgiven him (he was pretty sure). He should have known the Gryffindor nature wouldn't lend itself to grudges the way his own Slytherin one did. Ginny had told him Harry got mad and then got over it, after all, and lo and behold, it seemed to be true.

 

Of course, all was not restored. There was still no snogging. There were clearly more amends to make, which didn't surprise him or even inspire any feelings of ill-usage. Draco's mistake had been monumental, and he knew it. Harry might be more forgiving than his friends, but he was certainly not a pushover.

 

Draco would persevere. Nobody could persevere the way Draco could, and the reward would be more than worth it. And he could start showing how much he cared about Harry right now; he ignored Mrs Weasley's still-disapproving air and served Harry another helping of potatoes. Harry was still too thin.

 

Harry gave him a doubtful look.

 

"Eat it," said Draco sternly. "You're too thin."

 

"I don't think one helping of potato more or less is going to make a difference," said Harry, but he did eat at least half of what Draco had put on his plate, so Draco was satisfied. Even Mrs Weasley's look seemed to soften.

 

Granger's didn't. "He's not a child," she snapped.

 

"Hermione," Harry sighed.

 

"I know that," Draco snapped right back. "But he doesn't take good enough care of himself."

 

"Who are you trying to impress here?" she asked cuttingly. "Harry's not stupid enough to be taken in –"

 

"Hermione!" Harry repeated, much louder. She broke off, colour mantling her cheeks as Harry glared at her. "Let it alone. Please."

 

"I'm only saying what everyone's thinking," she said.

 

"He's not a child," Draco said in his turn, sneering at her. "He can make his own decisions."

 

"Glad we all know I'm not helpless. Now both of you shut up," Harry snapped. Uncomfortable silence descended on the table. Harry rolled his eyes and turned to Lupin. "Will you be working with me again tomorrow?"

 

"If you like," said Lupin with his mild smile. "There are some other forms of that meditation I showed you that you might find useful, and then we can get started on duelling."

 

Weasley perked up. "Are you teaching him duelling? Can you teach us, too?"

 

"It would probably be useful for you," Lupin acknowledged. "I don't mind."

 

"You can't use your wands," Granger reminded Weasley and Ginny, who were now looking eager. Their faces fell.

 

"I think we can deal with that," said Lupin, but refused to elaborate, so after a little time they gave up asking and finished their dinner.

 

After dinner Harry seemed to gather his courage, and said, "Want a game of Exploding Snap or something, Malfoy?"

 

"Sure," said Draco, seizing the opportunity. "And, you know, you can call me Draco."

 

Granger rolled her eyes, but Draco didn't care, because Harry smiled at him and said, "Okay."

 

They played Exploding Snap as peacefully as one could, and then Ginny challenged Draco to a game of chess. She had some sneaky moves, but Draco eventually won, which put him into an even better mood.

 

"Well, I have to be up and ready to duel tomorrow morning," said Harry from where he had been playing poker with Muggle cards with Granger and Weasley. "Good night, you guys."  He gave Draco an extra smile and headed out.

 

Weasley immediately turned on Draco and said, "Don't push anything, Malfoy. We're watching you."

 

"Harry's not a child," Draco reiterated. "Nor is he defenceless."

 

"He's our friend. That means we're part of his defences," said Granger loftily, putting away the cards. "Just watch yourself, Malfoy. You've used up your last chance. Don't hurt him again."

 

Granger and Weasley left the room, leaving Ginny watching Draco thoughtfully.

 

"Are you going to warn me off, too?" he asked her.

 

"No," she said. "I liked that you made him happy before, and I don't think you're stupid enough to make the same mistake twice. Just be careful."

 

He nodded and walked her up to her room before heading to his own.

 

That night he got the best night of sleep he'd had in two weeks, and woke the next morning full of hope about what the day would bring. It made a nice change.

 

And the day started very well indeed, as Harry's messy dark head poked around the corner of his door. "Oh, you're awake," he said, looking disconcerted.

 

"Only just," said Draco, snuggling back into his pillow and watching Harry with a little hopeful smile. Harry smiled back, took a deep breath, and stepped forward. As Draco lay very still, he approached the bed, leaned over, and brushed a small kiss on Draco's nose.

 

"Get up, it's breakfast time," he said, and ran out the door. Draco grinned to himself and threw on his clothes in record time.

 

"May I join the duelling lesson?" he asked Professor Snape when they were all seated around the breakfast table.

 

"I have no objection," said Professor Snape. "You may be able to teach these Gryffindors a thing or two."

 

"You're not seriously going to let Malfoy use his wand on us!" Granger cried.

 

Professor Snape raised a brow. "You'll just have to defend yourself adequately then, won't you?" he said.

 

She seemed to ready a retort and then realise she was arguing with a teacher; she snapped her mouth closed and looked mutinous. Before anyone could say anything else, though, Mr Weasley came in carrying a handful of envelopes.

 

"Owls just dropped these off," he said. Granger turned pale, and Draco felt his own stomach turn over. Their OWL results were here. Mr Weasley handed around the envelopes with a smile, and Draco looked at his for a long time before opening it.

 

Ordinary Wizarding Level Results

 

Pass Grades:

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades:

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

 

Draco Lucius Abraxas Orion Malfoy has achieved:

 

Astronomy O

Care of Magical Creatures A

Charms E

Defense Against the Dark Arts E

Divination O

Herbology O

History of Magic O

Potions O

Transfiguration O

 

An A and two E's! His father would be furious! He stiffened as a wave of fear swept through him, but then he remembered: his father was back in prison and no longer had anything to say about anything he did. He let out a big breath and relaxed again. He was safe from the wrath of Lucius Malfoy.

 

Of course, an A and two E's also meant Granger had certainly beaten him for top of the year…and sure enough Harry and Weasley were peering at her results and slapping her on the back. "Well done, Hermione!" Weasley was saying.

 

"I knew I'd gotten that question wrong," she muttered in response, shaking her head.

 

Harry laughed. "Ten O's and one E is better than any of us did," he said cheerfully. "Even Draco, I bet, huh?"

 

Draco throttled back his scowl and nodded. "Top of the year again, Granger," he said in as pleasant a voice as he could, not wanting to let Harry down. "Congratulations."

 

She gave him a surprised look and said, "Thank you."

 

Professor Snape held out a commanding hand and Draco surrendered his results. "Acceptable, Mr Malfoy," said the Professor, handing them back. Mr and Mrs Weasley were exclaiming over Harry and Weasley's results.

 

"We'll have to get to Diagon Alley sometime in the next few days to get your books and things," Mrs Weasley said.

 

"Yes indeed," said Mr Weasley. "Well done, kids."  He finished his breakfast and hurried out.

 

"It's all right, Harry," Draco heard Lupin murmuring. "You can study independently and take the NEWT if worst comes to worst, but I don't think you'll have any trouble qualifying for the program even if you don't. They're hardly going to say no to you."

 

"That's just it," Harry said glumly. "I don't want them to let me in because I'm the Boy Who Lived, I want to qualify properly."

 

Harry hadn't gotten top marks? (Except Potions, of course.) Draco had long ago stopped thinking Harry was at all stupid, but he'd always thought he got an easy ride from the Professors based on his Boy Who Lived status. Apparently not; Professor Snape seemed not to be the only one who would never do such a thing.

 

"Disappointing marks, Potter?" Professor Snape asked silkily.

 

Harry scowled at him. "An E in Potions," he said shortly.

 

"How generous," remarked the Professor. Draco frowned. He was surprised himself, given five years of observing Harry in Potions class, but he didn't like the Professor's tone of voice. Here was definitive evidence that he was completely and totally committed to Harry. That was _not_ a surprise to him. He was never one to do things by half measures.

 

"Well, now is not the time to worry over it," said Lupin, putting down his teacup. "We have work to do. Professor Dumbledore will be along later; everyone who's duelling, follow me please."

 

Draco went up to his room to get his wand before joining the others in Harry's practise room. They gathered around Lupin and learned how to cast a strong shield. Then they took turns defending themselves while Lupin cast increasingly powerful spells at them. Harry's shield was of course impermeable; Granger and Weasley did surprisingly well as well. Draco's shield lasted until the Bombarda curse, which knocked him back on his arse.

 

After that they practised casting Dissendium at a target. Harry had to work on regulating the amount of power he put into the spell after his first attempt completely vaporised the stone target. Not even dust was left.

 

Granger had just succeeded in breaking her target into three pieces when there was a tap on the door and it opened to admit Dumbledore, who twinkled at them all and said, "Sorry I'm late. How nice to see you all working together."

 

"They've been doing an excellent job," said Lupin warmly. "All right, kids, let's try something else." He paired Harry with Draco and Granger with Weasley and told them to demonstrate what they'd learned.

 

Draco cast whatever he could think of at Harry, whose shield held against it all. (Meanwhile, Granger's hair was bright purple and Weasley's nose was gone…)  Harry retaliated with a tickling hex which nearly had Draco asphyxiated with laughter before he took it off.

 

Lupin then recruited Granger and Weasley to join himself and Draco, and they all cast at Harry. Harry was kept hopping, even with his shield, which turned out to have some weaknesses in coverage. Draco got a hex over the top of it and Harry turned green. The colour vanished in an instant and Draco found his feet putting down roots into the floor.

 

He pulled free just as Granger flew past and sprawled ungracefully on the floor. "Hermione!" Harry cried, and the shimmer of his shield dimmed.

 

"No!" Draco yelled as Lupin got a Tarantallegra hex through the weakened shield. "Don't drop your shield!"

 

Harry threw the hex off after two high kicks. "Is Hermione okay?" he asked, starting toward her. Weasley, looking grim, shot a hex at him that bounced off the shield, but brought his attention back to the three people still up and casting at him.

 

Draco turned the floor to a sheet of ice, and Harry slipped and fell sprawling. "You can't stop now to find out," Draco said sternly.

 

Harry sat up, shaking his head, and cast three Stinging hexes in quick succession; Draco yelped as his feet were stung, and saw Lupin and Weasley do likewise. Granger was sitting up groggily in the background. Harry followed up with a Binding hex that swept them all up together and incarcerated them in front of him.

 

His shield vanished. "Hermione –" he started, and dropped as Dumbledore Stunned him.

 

"Well done, you three," said Dumbledore, waving his wand at the three of them. The Binding hex did not budge, and he shook his head, eyes twinkling more than ever. "Such strength."

 

"Get your elbow out of my side," Draco groaned to Weasley.

 

"I can't move," Weasley answered.

 

Harry stirred and sat up. Seeing the three of them still bound, he waved his wand and the binding fell. He didn't even have to speak to break the hex! "Are you guys okay? Hermione?"

 

"I'm fine," said Hermione.

 

"Do you know what you did wrong?" Lupin asked, smiling.

 

"I forgot there was someone else in the room," said Harry, pressing a hand to the back of his head. He turned and smiled at Dumbledore. "Very sneaky, sir."

 

"Constant vigilance, Mr Potter," smiled Dumbledore. He offered Harry a hand up, which Harry took.

 

"I think it's time for a break," said Lupin. "I smell lunch. We'll get back to work afterwards, all right?"

 

Draco hurried to catch up with Harry as he headed out of the room and up the stairs. "How's your head?" he asked.

 

Harry rubbed it again. "Okay," he said. "I can't believe I just forgot about Dumbledore."

 

"Well, you're not perfect…yet," said Draco, laughing. "That's why you have practise."

 

"Right. Are you okay?"

 

"I'm fine, sharp elbows on Weasley, though." Draco rubbed his side as they arrived in the kitchen to find sandwich makings laid out. The others joined them, and everyone settled ravenously down to lunch.

 

"What was up with your Potions mark?" Draco asked Harry when the first pangs had been assuaged.

 

"Oh, I needed an O to get into NEWT Potions," said Harry, sounding gloomy. "And I got an E. No more Potions."

 

"I thought you hated Potions," said Draco.

 

"It's not my favourite, but I need it to qualify for the Auror program," said Harry.

 

"You want to be an Auror?"  Draco snorted. "Figures."

 

"Why?"

 

"It's just so…you. Spending your life defending truth and justice. Stopping evildoers left and right," said Draco. "I didn't mean it in a bad way."

 

Harry looked a little doubtful, but nodded and munched his sandwich. "Anyway, I can't now," he said when he had swallowed.

 

"Sure you can," said Draco, rolling his eyes. "Nobody's going to turn you down."

 

"I don't want that," said Harry frustratedly. "I want to get in because I'm good enough to get in." He didn't milk that Boy Who Lived thing nearly enough, in Draco's opinion.

 

"But Harry, you are good enough to get in," said Granger soothingly.

 

"Not without a NEWT in Potions."

 

"Lupin was right, you can study independently and take the NEWT," said Draco. "I'll tutor you, if you want. I'm brilliant at Potions."

 

"Really?" Harry looked surprised.

 

"Have you observed nothing in the five years we've had class together?" Draco demanded.

 

Harry laughed. "No, I know you're brilliant at Potions," he said. "I meant, you'd really tutor me?"

 

"Of course," said Draco. Here was an excellent opportunity to make sure Harry got what he needed! "Just let me know when you want to start."

 

Harry was looking at him with a sort of wonder. "Thanks," he said. "That means a lot."

 

They all finished lunch in thoughtful silence.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

_Harry_

 

Harry turned over in bed and sighed. Apparently, his new ability to get to sleep easily was gone; just when he'd been getting used to it, too. Now he was back to careening from thing to thing and his brain wouldn't settle down.

 

The tutoring with Draco had been going well; they'd been at it for three days now. Draco was a surprisingly patient teacher, perfectly willing to explain theories in different ways until Harry really grasped them. Harry had brewed a perfect Dreamless Sleep potion yesterday, all by himself. The last time he'd tried it, in Potions class, he'd had Hermione's help and still it had turned into useless glop.

 

The problem Harry had at the moment was that he was incredibly randy all the time. He spent several hours every day with Draco, who always smelled delicious and never hesitated to stand close and put his hand on Harry's to demonstrate a stirring pattern or the right way to crush and scatter herbs. Harry couldn't help remembering how Draco tasted, how he felt, how he showed his pleasure at Harry's touch so vividly…it was torture.

 

He'd spent several of his annoyingly wakeful nights thinking about the Imperius incident, working out what he knew and how it made him feel, and had decided he was pretty much over it. Draco's motives weren't exactly unclear, and Harry was familiar with Draco's tendency to have an idea and leap into action without thinking it through. It was practically Gryffindor.

 

But now they were getting along again, back to long debates about whatever occurred to them, fast and furious games of Quidditch and Seeker's Tag, ease in each other's presence. And Harry hadn't missed the gleam in Draco's eye when he thought Harry wasn't looking; he wanted Harry, too, Harry was sure of it.

 

A true Gryffindor would get up out of his tangled bedclothes, march himself straight to Draco's room, and snog him right out of his pyjamas. Was Harry a true Gryffindor?

 

Yes. Well - he might need a cup of cocoa first, since the whisky had run out during the I Never game. It hadn't been a very big bottle.

 

"Harry, you okay?" Ron asked softly as Harry climbed out of bed.

 

"I'm fine," Harry answered. "Just can't sleep."

 

"Is it -?" The fear they all lived with, even now when his scar hadn't pained him in so long.

 

"No. I just can't sleep. I'll be back in a while."

 

"Let me know if you need me, mate," said Ron, and turned over and went back to sleep.

 

Ron was the best friend a bloke could have, Harry thought with affection, and went down to the kitchen. He had fixed his cocoa and was sipping it when he heard the padding of bare feet and Draco came in, wearing pyjama bottoms and nothing else.

 

"I thought I heard you come down here," he said, smiling at Harry. "What is it with you and cocoa, anyway?"

 

"It makes me feel better when I can't settle," said Harry. "There's some more in the saucepan, if you want some."

 

"Thanks. Weren't there some biscuits somewhere, too?"

 

"If Ron didn't finish them, they should be in the pantry."

 

Draco discovered that Ron had indeed finished the biscuits. "Damn it. So, why do you need feeling better? What's wrong?" he asked, sitting down next to Harry with his own mug of cocoa.

 

"Nothing," said Harry. "I just couldn't sleep."

 

Draco gave him a friendly leer. "I could help you with that."

 

Harry gulped, but met Draco's eyes, was gratified by the spark of hope he saw, and leered back. "I was thinking so, yeah."

 

Draco dropped his mug, which shattered on the table, spilling cocoa everywhere. He ignored the mess, staring at Harry with his mouth hanging open for a moment. Then he seemed to recall his dignity, said, "Come on, then," and held out his hand to Harry.

 

"Evanesco," said Harry distractedly, and the mess on the table vanished so thoroughly that the entire table looked brand new. He only noticed this from the corner of his eye, though, as he put his hand in Draco's and was hauled onto his lap without ceremony.

 

They devoured each other's mouths, struggling for balance on Draco's chair. Harry scraped his teeth down the side of Draco's neck, and Draco threw his head back so hard the chair fell over with a resounding crash.

 

They lay on the floor staring at each other for a moment, listening for sounds of disturbance. Both were gasping. Harry assumed this was because of the knock on the head they'd both just had; his certainly was. When they indeed heard footsteps coming toward the kitchen, they bolted into the pantry and huddled there, plastered together and peeking out through a crack in the door.

 

The footsteps entered the kitchen and turned out to belong to Professor Snape, who scowled at the overturned chair and then swept the room with a suspicious glance. Draco, who was draped over Harry's back, ran his hand down Harry's side and between his legs; Harry almost levitated straight through the ceiling. He barely bit back the startled squawk, and the groan as Draco squeezed. He gritted his teeth.

 

"Irresponsible brats," Snape muttered, righting the chair and then inspecting the saucepan Harry had made the cocoa in. Teeth nibbled the rim of Harry's ear, and he ground back against Draco in revenge. Draco's breath hitched, hot breath in Harry's ear. Chills ran down Harry's spine.

 

Dammit, Snape wasn't leaving! He was getting out more cocoa makings! Harry never would have pegged Snape as a cocoa drinker before, but at the moment it was hard to care. They _had_ to stay silent, but neither of them could stop. Harry threw his head back on Draco's chest, stretching one arm back to clamp on the back of Draco's thigh and gasping as quietly as he could.

 

Draco bit the top of his ear. Harry craned around so that their lips could meet momentarily.  Draco thrust against the small of his back, pulling Harry back hard against him by the hipbones, long fingers able to rub intermittently at his cock. They started to move faster and faster, writhing against each other. Draco buried his face in Harry's hair and brought one hand up to cover Harry's mouth as little grunts and choked-off moans began to escape them both. Quiet, they had to stay quiet!

 

Harry bit right through his lip when he came, and felt Draco's teeth clamp painfully onto his shoulder a moment later. Frantically, Harry peeked out at Snape again; he was drinking cocoa with a meditative expression on his face. Oh, Merlin, what if he'd heard them? They knew how he could pick up the most surreptitious whispers in class.

 

But he gave no sign. Very quietly, the two of them backed away from the pantry door and leaned against the shelves, catching their breaths. After a minute, Draco reached for Harry and pulled him into a loose embrace, kissing the bite on his shoulder softly, then his bleeding lip. They stood there like that, leaning against each other and kissing languidly, for a couple of minutes.

 

"Gratified as I am that you seem to be getting along again, may I suggest you do it somewhere more appropriate?" said Snape's dry voice right over Harry's shoulder.

 

Harry and Draco leaped apart. "Sorry, sir!" Draco gasped, trying to keep Harry between him and Snape, probably to hide the wet spot on his pyjama bottoms and leaving Harry front and centre.

 

"We'll go right now!" Harry said, and the two of them ran away, with absolutely no dignity whatsoever. They ran all the way up to Draco's room, where they collapsed on the bed in mortified laughter.

 

"I'm glad we're getting along again too," said Harry, when they had calmed down somewhat.

 

"Me too," said Draco, quelling Harry's momentary panic over having said something soppy. "Let's get rid of these pyjamas, shall we?" he added, lifting the front of his away from his body and making a face.

 

Both of them stripped, then lay back down, eyes roaming over each other's bodies. Draco brushed a finger very softly across Harry's bloody lip and pulled him up on top of him. Harry stroked Draco's shoulders and arms, and then his chest, eliciting goose bumps and peaked nipples. He just had to nibble them, taking his time and continuing to run his hands over as much of Draco's body as he could reach. Draco ran his hands up and down his back while he did that, dipping down to clutch briefly at his arse when he blew on the nipple in his mouth.

 

From there he nipped and licked across Draco's very nice pecs, detouring around his slowly awakening cock to lick at his thighs and the backs of his knees. Draco squirmed and moaned, "Please…" as Harry ran his tongue everywhere but that one place.

 

Harry had mercy then and mouthed at his cock, then slid his mouth over it. Draco clutched Harry's hair and jerked his hips up at the first suck; Harry had to resist or choke. He wrapped one hand on the part he couldn't swallow, absorbing Draco's jolt when Harry pushed an oily finger into him, and used his weight to hold Draco's hips down. Draco obeyed the unspoken command without struggle, writhing and finally coming with a shout. Harry managed to swallow most of it, and rubbed the rest into Draco's skin with one hand as he eeled up and kissed him ferociously.

 

He didn't reclaim the other hand, slick with silently Accio'd oil, which had been stretching Draco open as gently as possible all that time. Draco didn't object to that either, just locked his legs around Harry's waist and kissed him back with equal abandon.

 

"I'm going to fuck you, Draco," Harry rasped, holding Draco's gaze as he pulled away his fingers.

 

"Yes," Draco gasped.

 

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He seized the back of Draco's thigh, unable to resist sinking his fingers into the taut muscle.

 

" _Yes!_ Please, Harry!"

 

Harry ran his slick hand over his own cock and lined himself up. When Draco wriggled impatiently, he pushed gently, then harder as lust clouded his mind. Draco was so hot inside, and every little shift sent shocks of sensation through Harry's whole body.

 

"Harry, slow down," Draco begged, sounding a little scared.

 

He tried, he really did, but he knew he wasn't too successful. Draco made pained noises as their bodies fit together. Harry was gritting his teeth, at the absolute limit of his control by the time he was fully inside Draco. "Okay?" he gasped, trying with everything in him to wait until Draco was ready, but unable to stop the short little back-and-forth twitches of his hips.

 

Draco hesitated for a bare second, and then nodded, and Harry let himself go, almost immediately going faster and harder, pounding Draco into the mattress. Draco moaned and howled, "It's so good, oh, Harry, oh, Harry…"

 

Until they both came like rockets going off.

 

Afterward, Harry collapsed on Draco, still inside him, unable to support himself on his shaking arms any more. Draco lay bonelessly beneath him, eyes closed, smiling a huge wide smile.

 

"You're so good, Harry," he murmured.

 

"Mmmph," Harry grunted, rapidly sinking into sleep.

 

"Sleep now."

 

"Mmmph."

 

_Draco_

 

Draco opened his eyes and discovered the big, goofy smile was still on his face. He saw no reason to erase it; last night had been fantastic. Harry had come to him, had clearly forgiven him. And the sex had been great! In all his career of snogging, Draco had always been too cautious to take that final step (and to be truthful, he had always seen himself as the top), but last night he hadn't hesitated. And Harry had taken _good care_ of him. Twice more. Draco was frankly impressed with both of them.

 

Then he started to stretch, and a sharp pain shot up his back. Also, he and Harry were ickily glued together with dried spunk. Draco peeled himself away, not without difficulty, and gingerly finished his stretch. Perhaps this aftermath thing did not have so much to recommend it.

 

Harry groped around for a few moments before latching on to Draco's pillow. He buried his face in it and slumbered on, and Draco grinned affectionately at the back of his head. Draco was too uncomfortable to go back to sleep, though. A shower was definitely next on the agenda.

 

He was climbing carefully out of bed when there was a knock on the door, and it opened enough for Weasley to stick his head in. He made a face at the state of Draco, Harry, and the bed, and muttered, "I knew it."

 

"What is it, Weasley?" Draco asked shortly. Weasley was not going to spoil this for him.

 

"Just coming to call you guys for breakfast. We're going to Diagon Alley for our school supplies today," said Weasley. "See you downstairs, Malfoy." His head disappeared and the door shut with a bang.

 

No recriminations, Draco noticed. Bizarre. But now, shower!

 

When he got back from his luxuriously long, hot shower, he found Harry just stirring. "Good morning," he said, watching as Harry discovered how messy he and the bed were.

 

Harry gave him a blinding smile. "Morning. How are you? Are you okay?"

 

"I'm perfect," said Draco, going to his wardrobes for clothes. "As always." He rolled his eyes at Harry's snort. "Weasley stopped by and said we're going to Diagon after breakfast for school supplies."

 

"I'd better get a shower, then," said Harry, climbing out of bed. Once out, he waved a hand at it and said, "Scourgify." The bed sheets turned immaculate and the bed made itself, hospital corners and all.

 

"Nice," said Draco, and then found Harry kissing him, carefully keeping his sticky body from Draco's clean one. He relaxed into the kiss, enjoying Harry's chocolatey flavour.

 

"Shower," said Harry, breaking the kiss. "I'll see you downstairs. And Draco – thank you. For last night."

 

"Definitely my pleasure," said Draco, smiling, and turned to get dressed as Harry headed out.

 

Breakfast was more crowded than had been usual lately. Tonks was there, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, as well as the Weasley twins and both Weasley parents, Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Lupin, Granger, Weasley, and Ginny. He got a look at Harry and grinned involuntarily: Harry was wearing a T shirt with a picture of a rabbit wearing spectacles and seated at a desk. It said, "Stop animal testing." 

 

Draco took a seat next to Harry and tried not to wince. He could have used a quick Healing charm up there.

 

"Feeling all right, Malfoy?" asked a sharp-eyed twin, grinning.

 

"Just fine," said Draco coolly. "And yourself?"

 

"Oh, just peachy," said the twin. "We heard there was a bit of excitement last night."

 

Blushes bloomed all around the table. Draco, who was _not_ blushing, thank you, because Malfoys did not blush, studied Ginny's scarlet face, opposite him. It was no surprise to realise that Harry had undoubtedly been broadcasting again last night.

 

"Yes, well," said Mrs Weasley in a flustered way. "Harry, dear, would you like some more potatoes? You do need to keep your strength -" she broke off as Harry choked, joining the mass blush surrounding the table. Draco smothered a sudden laugh and noticed Granger and the Weasley kids doing the same.

 

"No, thank you, Mrs Weasley," said Harry, after a minute. He was redder than all of them. "Uh, sorry, everybody, for – any disturbance last night."

 

"It's fine, Harry," said Granger gently.

 

"I'm sure nobody minded," leered the twin.

 

"Stop it, George, it's not funny," snapped Ginny. "Don't worry about it, Harry. Just – work on those shields, okay?"

 

Harry nodded speechlessly. Draco found himself grateful for everyone's tact; last night had been a milestone for both himself and Harry, and he rather resented the fact that apparently everyone in the house had shared in it.

 

"I have everyone's Hogwarts letters," said Mrs Weasley, clearly anxious to change the subject. "We'll be going in a group and moving as quickly as possible."

 

"What about me?" Draco asked; he had been thinking about this. "Am I just going to waltz into Diagon Alley for every Death Eater's kid to spot and grab?"

 

"I do it every year," said Harry.

 

Draco elbowed him. "That's because you're a reckless idiot," he said. Harry elbowed him back.

 

"You'll be going under a Glamour again," said Tonks. "We'll take it off at Madam Malkin's when you have to get fitted."

 

"All right, then" said Draco. He'd ask how he was supposed to pay for all his supplies in some less public venue; he didn't like to flaunt his straitened circumstances in front of Weasley.

 

After breakfast Dumbledore took Draco aside and gave him a small sack of money, which he said would be enough to cover Draco's books and two new robes for the coming year. Draco swallowed his humiliation and thanked the old man; purebloods were always polite, after all.

 

Then Tonks took him further aside and reapplied the Glamour he'd worn on their trip to Diagon earlier in the summer. "All right there, Ryan?" she asked, as he ran his fingers through his hair.

 

"All right," he said. "This is not how I'm accustomed to shopping, that's all."

 

"I can see where it would be a change," she agreed. "Let's get going, though. We want to avoid the worst of the rush."

 

They Flooed one by one into the Leaky Cauldron, paused long enough for Weasley to give Harry a hand up from the floor (it was so strange how clumsy Harry was with the Floo when he was so graceful on a broom) and headed for Gringott's first. The goblins took Harry off for rather a long time, and Lupin was checking his watch anxiously by the time he came back.

 

Then they headed for Flourish & Blotts. To his fury, Draco discovered that to cover his whole booklist he would have to buy second hand copies of most of his books. He was fuming over this when Harry came up behind him and said, "What's wrong?"

 

"Poverty sucks," Draco snarled, examining the book he was holding. It was full of scrawled notes in the margins, but it was the cleanest copy he'd been able to find.

 

"I think most people would agree with that," said Harry. "Are you going to buy that book?"

 

"I have to," said Draco, resignedly adding it to his pile. "I just hope the previous owner wasn't an imbecile. It's full of notes."

 

"Maybe it's somebody we know," Harry suggested, reaching for the book. He opened it to the flyleaf. "This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince," he read. "Well, it's someone with a big ego, anyway," he commented.

 

 _A half-blood!_ Draco wailed to himself, but knew better than to say that aloud in front of Harry. "I guess we'll see," was all he said. "How are you doing?"

 

"I've got my books for class," said Harry, displaying a stack of shiny new books. "I'm getting some extra Defence books this year, too. I've stopped thinking whatever teacher we're going to have is going to be any use."

 

"Probably smart," said Draco, and he and Harry spent several happy minutes picking out advanced Defence texts.

 

"Hey," said Weasley, appearing beside them as they were debating over a particularly thick tome. "You've got to help me, or we'll never get Hermione out of here."

 

Harry decided to take the book, and the two of them followed Weasley over to where Granger was ensconced in the Charms section. There was a pile of books beside her that reached higher than her knee.

 

"Hermione? Are you buying all those?" Harry asked cautiously.

 

"Oh, I can't," she said, looking distressed. "I don't have enough money. But it's so hard to choose!"

 

"Be ruthless," said Ginny, who had been standing with her. "And we'll all know what to get you for your birthday."

 

Granger started to dither over her stack. This went on for several minutes, until Harry said, "Just give them to me, Hermione."

 

She looked shocked. "Oh, Harry, I couldn't!" she cried.

 

"It's obvious you need all these books," said Harry. "It's no problem, Hermione. But Remus's head will explode if we hang out in here anymore. He can't browse because he's too busy keeping watch."

 

"Oh…"  At that, she acquiesced. Nothing like solidarity among bibliophiles, Draco mused. They hurried through the lines with their stacks of books, which Tonks then sent back to Grimmauld Place while the rest of the group headed for Madam Malkin's.

 

Two robes! Two measly robes were all Draco could get this year! Well, Harry would be getting more if he had anything to say about it, Draco decided. He moved up to Ginny and said, "Harry needs lots of new clothes."

 

"Good luck," she said. "He usually gets two new robes and maybe a couple of uniform shirts or trousers."

 

Draco shook his head. "He needs more," he said. "He needs tailored trousers – all we got last time were denims. And he needs at least ten shirts and jumpers, not to mention some new ties. And dress robes!"

 

"What about dress robes?" Harry asked, having wandered up beside them.

 

"You need some," Draco informed him.

 

"What for?" Harry asked, as if this was a perfectly reasonable question. "I have those ones from the Yule Ball."

 

"You've grown since then, Harry," said Ginny gently.

 

"Not all that much," Harry said gloomily.

 

"Enough."

 

"You weren't seriously going to make do with two-year-old robes?" Draco asked in horror.

 

"What do I need them for?" Harry asked again. "We're not having another ball, are we?" He looked alarmed. "Are we?"

 

"I don't know," said Draco. "But it doesn't matter. There will be at least a Christmas party you'll need them for, I promise. Also, you need lots more new shirts, some trousers, jumpers, ties…just leave it to me."

 

"I'm just one person, Dr – Ryan," said Harry. "And I already got all those new clothes before."

 

"Those were casual clothes," said Draco. "You need uniforms and informal nice clothes, Harry, you must know this."

 

"I guess." Harry sounded sulky.

 

"All you have to do is let her measure you, and I'll take care of the ordering," said Draco. "You can afford it, right?" Harry's uniforms had always been of top quality, which had made his choice of rags for casual wear so much more inexplicable.

 

"Yeah, I can. But if I'm getting all these new clothes, you have to, too. And so do Ron and Ginny and Hermione."

 

 _New clothes! Yes!_ But Draco goggled. "Can you even afford that?" His _father_ would goggle at student shopping on that scale.

 

"Yeah, I can. Sirius left me a lot of money. So, you agree?"

 

"Harry, we don't need that many new clothes," said Ginny.

 

_Speak for yourself…_

 

"I don't need them either. If I get them, we all get them. I'm not going through this alone," said Harry stubbornly.

 

They entered Madam Malkin's. "Going through what alone?" Weasley asked, having turned back long enough to catch this as he held the door for Granger.

 

"Harry wants to get each of us a new wardrobe," said Ginny. Their Glamours dissolved as they walked further into the shop, leaving Harry looking even more skinny and scruffy than usual. He did not look at all like someone who could afford five separate complete wardrobes. Also, he had somehow escaped their notice long enough to wear those too-big cargo shorts out in public.

 

The occupant of the showroom swivelled slowly to face them, and turned out to be Pansy Parkinson.  "Potter," she said. "Come into some money, have we? And you're treating your churchmouse friends. How adorable." Her eyes met Draco's, and narrowed. He raised a brow and smirked, and she abruptly looked away, trying to cover the nervous quiver by focussing back on Weasley.

 

Weasley's face went red. "We can buy our own clothes," he said.

 

"Of course you can," she purred, her eyes lingering on the frayed hem of his T shirt.

 

"Shut up, Pansy," said Harry in a brisk tone, much like the one Draco himself used when she was being catty and he wasn't in the mood. "It's nothing to you what I buy." He turned away from her intrigued expression to address Madam Malkin and her wide-eyed assistant. "Let us know when she's done fitting, will you?" he asked, and pulled Draco out the door again. Ginny, Weasley, and Granger followed. Draco's skin tingled for a second as the Glamours went back up.

 

"Look, Harry, we don't need you to buy us clothes," Weasley said fiercely.

 

"I know," said Harry, in defiance of all evidence. "But Draco's making me get all kinds of clothes for myself. If I have to go through it, so do you, because that's what friends are for. Right?" He smiled a big, winning smile at Weasley.

 

Weasley gave him an exasperated look. "You're the only person in the entire world who thinks it works that way," he said. "But okay. Mind, you get to explain to Mum!"

 

Harry looked a little daunted at that, but nodded.

 

Lupin jogged up to them just then. "What are you doing outside?" he asked.

 

"We're waiting for Pansy Parkinson to get done in there," said Harry, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the shop. Lupin glanced at Draco and nodded.

 

"I haven't seen too many suspicious people around," he said. "But that could change at any moment. Keep your eyes open."

 

Draco was the one who recognised that it was Simon Parkinson who shot a spell into their group, even as he knocked Harry aside and shot a Stunner back. Parkinson had already Apparated, though, and his damage was done. All their Glamours were gone again.

 

"Let's get out of here," said Lupin, spinning around to put them behind them and launching a spell. It had barely cleared his wand when he fell to a Stunner to the back of his head. Draco whirled and saw Pansy standing in the doorway of Madam Malkin's shop looking smug. Ginny cast at the same time as Draco, and Pansy dropped, but Draco saw with a sinking heart that they were surrounded not only by various Slytherins and their parents, but a large crowd of strangers holding wands pointed at them with unmistakeable hostility.

 

Harry had immediately put up his shield when Lupin fell. Hexes started flying thick and fast, but they broke harmlessly against it. "We've got to get inside," he said grimly. They all shuffled into Madam Malkin's under cover of the shield, Draco and Weasley dragging Lupin with them. Harry occasionally fired hexes through it, though Draco knew none of the rest of them could, and dropped several of their attackers.

 

"We've put ourselves under siege," Granger said, turning around with some difficulty in the middle of their tight little group under the shield. "We've got to get out of here. Madam Malkin!" The terrified woman looked at her from behind the counter. "Do you have a Floo here?"

 

Madam Malkin could not seem to process the question. The assistant nodded feverishly and looked toward the back of the shop.

 

"If you stay low to the floor, I think you can make it back there safely," Hermione told the two women. They looked at the broken front display window, in which Harry was perfectly framed as he peered out and fired hexes, and back to Hermione. Hermione gestured encouragingly, then turned back to Harry.

 

"You go. Tonks is out there," said Harry. "I'm not just going to leave her."

 

"She's an Auror, Harry, she wouldn't want us to stay," said Ginny, tugging on his arm. Draco wanted to shout at her not to distract him.

 

"I won't leave her," Harry repeated.

 

More screams erupted from the street, ringing with a whole new level of terror, and they saw a series of green lights flare. The screaming scaled up in volume and pitch, and then a new voice rose over it all.

 

"Give me Harry Potter!" called the high, cold voice of the Dark Lord. The noise tapered off fast. Ice shot down Draco's spine and his lungs seized up. "Give me Harry Potter, and you may all live. If not –" Green light flared again, and somebody shrieked into the silence, just once.

 

"Oh, shit," Harry muttered. Draco's knees were weak with terror, and he put his hand on Harry's shoulder to remain upright. This was so much worse than that time when he'd been in Harry's mind.

 

"Harry, is that –" squeaked Weasley, so pale his freckles looked incandescent.

 

"That's Voldie," said Harry, his flippant tone belied by his set expression. "Listen, you and Hermione and Ginny and Draco go through the Floo to Grimmauld Place."

 

"While you do what?" Draco demanded, tightening his handy grip on Harry's shoulder to stop him running straight out the door into the fog of lethal magic. He had felt Harry's muscles shift to do just that. "You're not going out there!"

 

"He's killing people, Draco," said Harry. He was pale, but he wasn't shaking, and his voice was more angry than frightened. "I have to make him stop."

 

"He's _been_ killing people. He's not going to stop just because you go out there," quavered Ginny in a terrified thin voice. "He'll just kill you too."

 

"We're not leaving you, Harry," said Granger. Her voice was strong, but Draco could feel her shaking all over, since they were all squashed together.

 

"Harry Potter!" The Dark Lord called. "Come out, Harry!" More green light.

 

"I have to go," said Harry fiercely. "I don't want you to be in danger. Please go!"

 

"No, Harry," Weasley said. "We can help." Did Harry's friendship automatically turn people insanely self-sacrificing? Terrified as he was, even Draco wanted to stay here and provide backup more than he wanted to lunge back to the Floo and escape. Not _much_ more, but still.

 

"Come out, Harry!" called the Dark Lord again. Draco had the hysterical thought that the Dark Lord sounded just like Aunt Bellatrix and her ear-grating baby talk.

 

"I have to go!" Harry said again, starting to pull away from the group.

 

Draco knew that determined expression. He'd seen it for five years on the Quidditch pitch, in Defence classes, in hallway brawls. So he pulled Harry against him and kissed him with all his might. "We'll be here," he said, firming his voice. "Don't get killed."

 

Harry kissed back with equal fierceness. Weasley made a small, squicked noise in his throat, and both girls sighed. "I'll be back," Harry said. "I promise." Then, before any of them could pull him back, he was out of the shield and leaning out the front window of the shop, with nothing but air between him and a street full of people who wanted to kill him.

 

" _Dammit_ ," he said furiously, and ran out the door.

 

"There you are," said the Dark Lord, his voice carrying all through the street. "What a brave boy, after all."

 

"Expelliarmus!" snapped Harry, in chorus with the Dark Lord's "Crucio!"

 

"Oh, Merlin," moaned Ginny.

 

"I have to see what's going on," said Draco through chattering teeth. Professor Snape's remark about experience trumping sheer power shoved back into his brain with an unkind jolt. What if Harry was really about to die?

 

He had to see. He started forward and discovered with a painful blow to the nose that Harry's shield still covered him and the others. He narrowed his eyes and shuffled further, and to his relief the shield came with him, forcing the others to follow him. He edged up to the window and they peered out.

 

Harry and the Dark Lord were standing in the middle of the street, aiming their wands at each other. There was a strand of light between them with a glowing ball of power in the middle of it. The ball kept moving, first toward Harry, then toward the Dark Lord, then back toward Harry. Harry showed no signs of Cruciatus, to Draco's puzzlement and relief.

 

"He said their wands did this last time," murmured Weasley as they watched the ball move toward the Dark Lord again.

 

Just then Harry locked eyes with the Dark Lord – " _you idiot, Harry!"_ screamed Draco's brain -  pointed the hand not holding his wand at him, and snarled, "Finite Incantatem!"

 

The Dark Lord reeled back. The strand of light coming from his wand went out entirely, and he dropped to the ground. Harry lurched backward and caught his balance with obvious difficulty.

 

There was silence. Nobody moved.

 

"Did Harry kill him?" Ginny asked in a small voice.

 

Steady on his feet again, Harry pointed his wand at the huddled figure and said, "Avada –" But the people surrounding the tableau all shrieked and crumpled, dropping their wands and clutching their left arms, and the Dark Lord's wand lashed up.

 

"Sectumsempra!" the Dark Lord screamed, and climbed to his feet as Harry dashed blood out of his eyes from a slash across his forehead. Draco saw Harry's shield shimmer into being around him and sucked in a harsh breath as he realised Harry had been duelling the Dark Lord unprotected until just now. "How dare you think you could defeat me! Sectumsempra! Crucio! Crucio!"

 

Draco saw the spells impact Harry's shield and fail to make even a dent. There was only a nanosecond for relief, though. The others cried out with him as the Dark Lord snarled and cast again. This curse ricocheted neatly off Madam Malkin's storefront and straight through the top of the shield, where Harry never made it strong enough. Harry dropped to the ground, screaming and convulsing. The shield wavered and vanished.

 

The men and women with Dark Marks were convulsing as well. Draco knew the Dark Lord was draining their power to strengthen his own. He was momentarily distracted from his awe that the Dark Lord needed to do that to fight (not defeat, _never_ defeat) Harry. Was Professor Snape okay? He was back at Grimmauld Place and wouldn't even know what was going on.

 

"That's right, Harry Potter," the Dark Lord crooned, letting up briefly on his Cruciatus. To Draco's further disbelief, Harry lifted his head and glared. The kids in the shield with Draco all gasped. "I will always be the strongest wizard in the world! Avada Kedavra!"

 

Draco's world ended as the green light flashed from the Dark Lord's wand towards Harry. All his hope, all his life, crashed into nothing. All four of them screamed with horror – and then were shocked into silence as Harry staggered to his feet with a furious scowl.

 

And Harry's shield burst back into being. The light splashed over it, narrowed into an impossibly bright beam, and sped back at the Dark Lord, surrounding him in a nimbus of death.

 

As they stared, as the light held and burned brighter and brighter, the Dark Lord's body dissolved into ash, hanging suspended in the light. The writhing Death Eaters went ominously still.

 

Harry aimed his wand and muttered something nobody heard. The ash vanished, leaving behind a sort of dark stain on the air. This rushed towards Harry, who pointed his wand at it as if he had all the time in the world and shouted "Mortis Totalis!" at the top of his lungs. The darkness flashed into bright light, like a negative of itself, and vanished.

 

Harry stood there, breathing hard, a skinny kid wearing a goofy Muggle T-shirt and too-large cargo shorts and bleeding from the forehead, victorious over the world's most dangerous dark wizard.

 


	14. Chapter 14

_Harry_

_He's dead. He's gone. He's really gone! Gone, gone, gone, gone!_ Harry's brain was stuttering. He stood frozen in place, clutching his wand, as Diagon Alley began to stir. Ragged cries and cheers began to echo as people peeked out of their refuges and realised there was no sign of Voldemort or functional Death Eaters in the street any more.

 

Aurors started Apparating in on every side, hurrying to the downed Death Eaters and Portkeying them away. Kingsley Shacklebolt started towards Harry, and Harry abruptly came back to himself.

 

"Tonks is over there!" he shouted, pointing, and headed for Remus, who was crumpled near the doorway of Madam Malkin's. As he crouched over the werewolf, the door of the shop burst open and Draco hurtled out. He launched himself at Harry, knocked him flat to the pavement, and kissed him ferociously.

 

"You're alive, you're alive," he muttered between kisses, clutching Harry with a mighty and unfortunately painful grip. Hermione, Ginny, and Ron piled on a moment later, also hugging madly.

 

"Hey," Harry choked, voice faint with pain and breathlessness. "Air…"

 

They backed off a tiny bit, and Harry took a few deep breaths. "We need to wake up Remus and get out of here," he said, still panting but at least not groaning.

 

"I can't believe you just killed him," Hermione sobbed, hugging Harry some more. "He was horrible, oh, Harry…"

 

"Remus!" Harry squeaked, as Ginny kissed him sloppily on the cheek, laughing and crying at once.

 

Ron pulled back and enervated Remus, who sat up clutching his head but also looking around for Harry. His eyes were still slightly unfocussed as he reached for him.

 

"We've got to get you out of here, Harry," he said urgently. "Voldemort will stop at nothing –"

 

"Voldemort's stopped," said Harry. "But we should still get out of here. I think people are going to start reacting pretty soon, and I really don't want to be here for that." Louder cheers suddenly erupted from the street, as the word obviously spread from those who had seen what had happened to those who hadn't watched. "Come on!"

 

The group of them, minus Remus who was hailed by Kingsley and Tonks and so turned back to the street, hustled into the shop and into the back, where they found Madam Malkin and her assistant huddling, terrified, in a corner.

 

"You – you're all right!" Madam Malkin stammered.

 

"Yes, ma'am, everything's all right," said Harry, over Hermione's _sotto voce_ complaint about people with an excellent escape route who were too scared to use it. "Voldemort's gone. Can we use your Floo?"

 

"He's gone?" quavered the assistant. "Th-that was really You-Know-Who?"

 

"He's gone _forever_ ," said Draco in a giddy voice. Harry had never seen him smiling so hugely. "Come on, Harry." He scooped some powder from the mantel jar and threw it in the flames. They flared green and he yanked Harry through. The last thing Harry saw was the dawning joy on Madam Malkin's face as he whirled off to Grimmauld Place.

 

Draco was holding onto him so hard that he didn't miss even a step when they exited the Floo.

 

When the others came through, Ron was laughing. "She offered you a free wardrobe, mate," he said to Harry.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. "How many wardrobes do I need, for God's sake?"

 

"I haven't forgotten that you need new clothes, Harry," Draco chimed in sternly. "You'll need dress robes even more, now, you know."

 

"Of course I will." Harry grimaced. "I might have known."

 

"Back so soon?" asked Mrs Weasley, coming into the room and regarding them with astonishment. "You had so much to buy; I thought you'd be back around suppertime."

 

"We were interrupted," said Harry awkwardly, as Ron and Ginny threw their arms around their mother.

 

"Harry killed Voldemort, Mum!"  Ron cried with no preamble at all.

 

She turned white. "What?"

 

"Harry killed You-Know-who, Mum," put in Ginny, her voice just as strident as Ron's. "It's true. He faced him down in the middle of the street and k-killed him." She turned and threw herself at Harry again. He couldn't help flinching at how much it hurt, but she didn't seem to notice. "I can't believe you didn't die!"

 

Mrs Weasley screamed, "Arthur!" and lunged for the Floo. A minute later they were looking at Mr Weasley's face in the flames.

 

"What's the matter, Molly?" he asked. "There's been some kind of disturbance at Diagon Alley, are the kids all right?"

 

"Disturbance! Arthur, Ron says Harry's _killed Voldemort!_ "

 

Mr Weasley started as though he'd been poked with a cattle prod. "Really?" He peered behind Mrs Weasley until he spotted Harry, still standing unsteadily with Ginny draped on him. "Harry? Are you all right?"

 

"A little sore," Harry downplayed – that Cruciatus was no joke, Voldemort had put a _lot_ of power into it.

 

"Why didn't you say so?" Draco demanded. "Oh – come on, Ginny, let go – Harry, where does it hurt?" Ginny let go, and he pulled Harry back and over to the couch, where he insisted he lie down. It was a profound relief: he was still shaking with pain and adrenaline.

 

"I've got to find out what's going on now," said Mr Weasley. "I'll be in touch. I love you, Mollywobbles." He blinked out.

 

"Mollywobbles?" Draco murmured in Harry's ear.

 

"Shut up," said Harry, stifling a laugh.

 

Mrs Weasley waved her wand briskly at Harry, Healing his bleeding forehead, and conjured a soft cloth and a bowl of warm water, which she handed to Ron. Then she went off, murmuring something about fixing them all something to restore them. Ron dunked the cloth in the water and began to sponge Harry's face, which felt wonderful. Except for the way he hadn't wrung out the cloth quite enough, and so water dripped down Harry's neck in irritating drops and immediately turned cold.

 

Still, compared to Cruciatus, it was no problem at all.

 

"I wonder if Professor Snape is all right?" Draco said.

 

Oh, right. When Harry took back his stolen power from Voldemort, Voldemort had reacted by draining power from the Death Eaters. Had it affected all the Death Eaters or just the ones who were in the Alley at the time? "Maybe we should go look for him," Harry said uneasily.

 

"Not 'we'," said Draco. "You stay right there and rest. I'm going to get you a painkiller. Weasley can find Professor Snape." He took the cloth from Ron, dunked it in the bowl, and wrung it out with great force before handing it to Hermione.

 

"Please, Ron?" Harry asked, as Hermione ran the cloth gently over his face and neck.

 

"Okay, mate," said Ron, and headed out, followed by Draco. Ginny joined Hermione at Harry's side and eased off his shoes, then arranged a soft pillow under his head.

 

"Are you in a lot of pain, Harry?" she asked.

 

"I've had worse," said Harry, whose muscles were stiffening up remarkably as the adrenaline continued to wear off. He tried to relax, to absorb the safety of home and his friends' affection.

 

"Oh, Harry, always the hero," said Hermione, clearly not fooled, and bent down to kiss his forehead. "I'm so glad you're alive."

 

"Yeah, me too."

 

The Floo flared and Remus stepped out. He hurried over to Harry as Draco reappeared with a phial in his hand. "Harry? Are you all right?"

 

"Just sore," said Harry. "And tired." He accepted the phial from Draco and drank the potion in it quickly. The pain faded down to a mere prickle, and his muscles finally started to unwind.

 

"Thank Merlin," said Remus, and startled Harry by pulling him into a rough hug. "Thank Merlin you're all right, Harry. We almost lost you. Someone said he cast Avada Kedavra."

 

"Yeah. It bounced off my shield." Harry laughed a little, even as Remus's arms tightened. "Kind of funny; I killed him twice the same way."

 

"Will he be back, then?" Ginny asked in a hushed voice.

 

"No, he can't," said Draco firmly. "Harry killed his spirit, there at the end. You did, right, Harry?"

 

"I think so," said Harry. "That was the idea."

 

"What did you do?" Remus asked, and Draco described what had happened in detail. "You did it Harry," Remus reassured him when he had heard everything. "He's gone. Well done!"

 

"The rest of this summer is going to be one big party," Draco predicted, leaning comfortably on the back of the couch and grinning down at Harry. Harry laughed.

 

Just then Ron came back in, followed by the looming figure of Professor Snape.

 

"Professor, you're all right!" Draco cried.

 

"As you see," said Snape. He swept up to Harry and regarded him critically. Then he shocked them all by smiling. "Well done, Potter. And you have my personal thanks, as well, for the shield."

 

"What shield?" Harry asked stupidly, and instantly felt even stupider facing Snape's expression.

 

"The one you cast on your friends in the shop," said Snape. "It protected me, as well."

 

"He was riding around in my head!" Ron burst out.

 

"I was working with the Legilimency potion," said Snape with no guilt whatsoever, as Harry gaped at him. "My consciousness, which included access to my magic, was inside your shield when the Dark Lord sent out the drain. The shield protected me." He pushed back his left sleeve; the Dark Mark was now nothing but a faint pink outline on his arm.

 

"He was riding around in my head," Ron repeated resentfully. "Without permission."

 

"You didn't do anything to him while you were in there, did you?" Harry asked cautiously.

 

Snape folded his arms and looked austere, as only he could. "Certainly not. It was merely a range test." Draco seemed to be about to say something to that, but the Professor quelled him with a look.

 

Mrs Weasley came back in just then with a tray heaped with food. Harry happily accepted a plate of fresh cheddar scones and a cup of tea, feeling glad to have escaped the rising excitement on the Alley and, not incidentally, getting measured for a whole new wardrobe.

 

His mind still touched and glanced away from the fact that Voldemort was gone forever, and his life would never be the same again.

 

                                                                         HDHDHD

 

"Have I told you yet that you look fantastic in those robes, Harry?" Draco purred, advancing with a predatory expression.

 

"Once or twice," said Harry, not backing away very fast. He told himself he was tired from the Ministry awards function they had just left.

 

"But you look even better out of them," Draco continued, reaching him and handily undoing the first clasp at Harry's throat. Harry swallowed and put a hand over his, then ran it up his arm to the back of his neck and hauled him in for a kiss. (Maybe he wasn't as tired as all that, he decided.) 

 

"Mmmm," said Draco when they surfaced for air. "I've been dying for that all night. Do it again." They kissed again, slowly. Draco sneaked Harry's robes off his shoulders while this went on.

 

Harry said, "We should be naked." And a second later they were – he was still getting used to the infusion of the power he'd taken back from Voldemort. It lent a new meaning to "Your wish is my command."

 

"You did remember a Silencing charm, right?" Draco asked a little while later, when they had recovered somewhat.

 

Harry laughed. "I did. And I shielded my mind, too – I think. I was kind of distracted."

 

"I should think so!" Draco huffed, and Harry laughed some more.

 

"You were definitely the main thing on my mind," he assured Draco, who made a little 'of course' gesture and kissed him.

 

"School tomorrow," Draco murmured after another little while.

 

"Yeah."

 

"It'll be different, with – everything."

 

"Yeah."

 

"But we'll be okay," said Draco, his tone ringing with not-quite-perfect confidence.

 

"Oh, yeah," Harry said, pulled him close, and kissed him soundly.

 

They curled up and fell sleep.

 

FIN

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, it's done! Thank you all for coming along on this path with me, and for being so patient when updates were so far between. You guys are awesome!


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